James Potter and the Immortal Icon
by Avery-Lou
Summary: YEAR ONE: James and Sirius could spend time on homework instead of pranks. They could leave the Slytherins alone instead of picking fights. They could let the professors deal with the danger stalking Hogwarts. They COULD...But where's the fun in that?
1. On the Hogwarts Express

**James Potter and the Immortal Icon  
(Year One)  
**

**Chapter 1: On the Hogwarts Express**

"Where is it?" eleven-year-old James Potter asked, surging ahead with his luggage cart. His unmanageable black hair whipped at his square spectacles as his eyes scanned the crowded train station. The cage rattling along atop his trunk held an Eagle Owl named Luftwing, the largest owl James had ever seen. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had decided to buy him a pet for his first year at Hogwarts, and from the moment James had seen the enormous, speckled owl, he knew Luftwing was the one for him.

At the moment, Luftwing looked even angrier than normal, his feathers ruffled from all the jostling and his bright orange eyes fixed on James. He let out an indignant hoot as James careened through the crowd in King's Cross, turning so sharply he nearly dislodged Luftwing's cage. James ignored the owl's reproachful cry and scanned the signs fixed overhead. They were just passing Platform Nine…

"Here we are," said Mr. Potter brightly, catching up to his son as they neared the wall dividing Platform Nine from Platform Ten. The wizard had the same amber eyes and black hair as James, though Mr. Potter's hair was streaked with gray. He lifted a hand to point at the wall. "That's it."

Mrs. Potter, a plump witch with sharp blue eyes and graying brown hair, joined her husband and son, smiling encouragingly at James. "Just walk straight at it, dear. You'll pass right through."

"Walk through?" James grinned. "Where's the fun in that?" He took off running, bending low over the handles of his luggage cart, ignoring his mother's screech of protest. Just before reaching the wall, he jumped onto the cart and rode it through.

Platform 9 ¾ bustled with students and parents crowding around a large red engine, but James hardly had a chance to take it in before he realized he was still hurtling forward, straight toward the gathered crowd. Next moment, his cart knocked into someone and came to a sudden stop, throwing both boys to the ground.

"Remus!" a tired-looking witch cried, rushing to the other boy's side. "Are you alright?"

The pale, scrawny boy ran a hand through his light brown hair and gave a shaky smile. "'m fine, mum."

"Sorry," James said, jumping to his feet and offering the boy a hand. "Didn't see you."

The boy accepted James' help and climbed to his feet. "'s okay," he mumbled.

"James!"

James turned to see his mother charging through the barrier, followed closely by his father. Mr. Potter grinned into his hand, but Mrs. Potter looked much less amused by James' entrance. She stormed over, grabbed him by the ear, and dragged him away from Remus and his mother, apologizing profusely until they were lost in the crowd.

"Why…? You…! I _never_!" Mrs. Potter fumed, jabbing her finger at James' nose.

"It was just a bit of fun," James grumbled. "He's not hurt."

"That's _not _the point! What if a muggle saw you? What if you'd run someone over?"

James rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Mum. Won't happen again."

"That's right it won't!" Mrs. Potter placed both hands on her hips and scowled. "Next time, you're holding my hand."

"I can't hold your hand! What'll the others say?"

Mrs. Potter sniffed and shook her head. "Should've thought of that before you pulled your little stunt. Next time, you'll make a civilized entrance."

Mr. Potter shot James a pitying look over his wife's shoulder and glanced at the clock. "Three till," he said. "Better hurry up."

James took Luftwing's cage while his father hefted his trunk and loaded it onto the train. James grinned as he caught sight of the golden letters that spelled out _Hogwarts Express_. He could hardly believe it; he was finally on his way to the one and only Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Once his trunk was loaded, James lifted Luftwing's cage and started up himself, but Mrs. Potter pulled him back into a suffocating embrace.

Mr. Potter quickly rescued his son, gave him a squeeze, and nudged him toward the train. "Have fun!"

"But not too much," Mrs. Potter hastened to add, frowning. "I don't want to get an owl tomorrow saying you've already got detention."

James laughed. "Yeah, yeah." He grabbed his trunk and Luftwing's cage. "How's the day after?"

Mr. Potter laughed as Mrs. Potter spluttered protests, but James didn't stick around to hear them. Instead, grinning, he turned and made his way down the corridor, peering into each compartment as he passed, looking for one with open seats. Halfway down the corridor, as the _Hogwarts Express _pulled away from the station, James found a compartment with only two occupants, a black-haired boy with rumpled clothes and a distant expression sprawled across one seat by the door, and a slender red-haired girl hunched against the window. Both looked to be first years, like James.

"Can I join you?" James asked.

The boy studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure." The girl didn't answer.

James set Luftwing's cage on an empty seat and hoisted his trunk. The other boy stood and helped, and a moment later, they succeeded in lifting it onto the luggage rack. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, James dropped into the seat across from the other boy and grinned. "I'm James," he said.

"Sirius. Nice owl."

"Yeah. Rather have a broom, though."

Sirius scowled. "First years aren't allowed one."

"I know," James grumbled. "'s not fair. I'd try out for the Quidditch team if they let me."

Scowl vanishing, Sirius sat up a bit straighter. "What position d'you play?"

"Chaser, mostly. You?"

He hesitated. "Never _actually_ played, but I always thought Beater would be fun."

The door opened, and another boy entered, but James and Sirius hardly spared him a glance as he passed them to sit across from the girl.

James grinned. "You gonna try out next year?"

Shrugging, Sirius grinned back. "Maybe. I dunno, though. Might be too busy with…other stuff."

"What, like homework?" James asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, right." Sirius snorted. "No, I've got other plans."

James raised an eyebrow. "Plans? What kind of plans?"

"Oh… you know…" Sirius said mysteriously. James leaned forward eagerly, but as Sirius opened his mouth to reply, James caught the tail end of the conversation between the other two passengers.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," said the thin, pale boy.

"Slytherin?" James asked, incredulous. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He turned to face Sirius, who had stopped smiling and slouched in his seat.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin."

James gaped at him. "Blimey, and I thought you seemed all right!"

Sirius grinned. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James hoisted an invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad." Beside him, the pale boy scoffed. James turned on him. "Got a problem with that?"

The boy sneered. "No. If you'd rather be brawny than brainy –"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" Sirius broke in. James burst out laughing, stopping only when the girl rose, glaring down at him and Sirius.

"Come on, Severus," she said haughtily, "let's find another compartment."

James rolled his eyes. "Oooooo…" he mocked in his best girly voice, laughing again as he realized Sirius had done the same. Severus stood to follow the girl, and James stuck out his leg. Severus stepped over it, face flushed red.

"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius called as Severus slammed the compartment door behind him.

"Snivellus, huh?" James said. "Snivellus… Got a nice ring to it."

Sirius snickered. "I know, right? I can't believe that git actually _wants _to be in Slytherin."

"So, your whole family, huh?"

With a sigh, Sirius sagged against the seat. "Every last one."

"Rotten luck." James stared out the window for a moment, watching the countryside flash past. "What would your parents say if you weren't in Slytherin?"

Sirius' eyes were fixed on a spot on the ceiling. "Depends where I _did_ go."

"Gryffindor?"

There was a beat of silence before Sirius answered, speaking slowly as a grin spread across his face. "I think they'd die of shame!"

"You don't sound too sad about that."

"Are you kidding? That'd be fantastic!"

At a knock on the door, James and Sirius looked up. A middle-aged witch pushing a trolley leaned her head into the compartment and smiled at the boys. "Can I get you two anything?"

James and Sirius leaped up at once. Five minutes later, the witch moved on, and the boys sat back down with a heaping pile of sweets between them. Sirius shoved his things off the seat so James could sit beside him, and as they fell to the floor, a book tumbled out. James bent to pick it up and frowned at the cover. "What's this?"

Sirius tossed an exploding bonbon in his mouth. "Huh?"

James waited for the candy to burst with a muffled _pop_, then held up the book. To James' surprise, Sirius' face flushed crimson.

"Oh, nothing. Just some muggle book I nicked from the library to annoy my parents."

Turning the book over in his hands, James raised an eyebrow. "Any good?"

Sirius shrugged. "Book's a book. Better than the stuff I got at home." He snickered suddenly. "Muggles have some _weird _ideas, y'know? They think you can stop a vampire with special_ holy _water."

"_Seriously_?" James laughed, tossing the book aside and grabbing a chocolate frog from the pile of sweets. "You know many?"

"Vampires?" Sirius gave a devilish grin. "One or two."

_"Muggles."_

"Oh. No, my parents don't approve of them."

James groaned. "Don't tell me they buy into that blood purity rubbish."

Reaching for a cauldron cake, Sirius gave a grimace. "They do."

"But _you _don't?" James asked hopefully.

"Course not! It's a bunch of codswallop if you ask me."

As the _Hogwarts Express_ wound its way north, James and Sirius worked their way through the pile of sweets, talking animatedly about Quidditch and Hogwarts and whatever else came to mind. As the sun began to sink toward the horizon and Sirius suggested a game of Exploding Snap, James found himself hoping Sirius _would_ be sorted into Gryffindor. He really seemed much too nice to be a Slytherin, after all.

-.-.-

A few hours later, the train began to slow. James and Sirius had given up on Exploding Snap some time ago and, after changing into their school robes, resumed their Quidditch discussion. A voice interrupted to inform students that they would be arriving momentarily, and to leave their luggage on the train. Grinning, James jumped up to press his face against the window. He could see little in the darkness. When the train came to a stop, he and Sirius joined the crowd of students streaming toward the exit.

The platform was even more chaotic than the train had been, as students and teachers bustled about. Many students streamed toward carriages standing nearby, and James supposed they must have been magic carriages, for he could see no animals around to pull them.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

James turned to see a shaggy-haired giant of a man waving his great, thick arms in the air.

"You ever seen someone that big?" Sirius muttered as he and James wove through the crowd toward the man. James shook his head and gaped at the man, who continued hollering until all the first years had gathered around him. Nearly every face stared at him in shock, though many students quickly shut their mouths and averted their gaze. Not James.

"Arright," said the man, smiling at all the upturned faces. "Everyone 'ere? Follow me."

He turned and led the first years down a rocky path through thick trees. Up ahead, James caught a glimpse of moonlight on water. The path turned, and a collective gasp went up. Hogwarts castle towered over them, thousands of windows glowing merrily in the darkness. It stood atop a mountain across the lake, jutting towers and turrets into the night sky. James grinned madly. Sirius nudged him and pointed to a small fleet of boats lined up on the shore, and after exchanging a brief, mischievous glance, James and Sirius sprinted for the boats.

"No more'n four to a boat," came the deep voice, but James and Sirius had already leaped into a boat, which rocked dangerously and drifted away from the shore.

"Guess we get our own," James said, searching for oars. He found none, and frowned. A quick glance showed that none of the other students now climbing into boats had oars either, so he shrugged and made himself comfortable.

The giant man was the last to clamber into a boat, and although he had one to himself, the vessel nearly sank under his bulk. "Everyone in? Right then – off we go!"

At his words, the boats surged forward, and James grinned more broadly than ever as the castle loomed nearer overhead. The night was still and silent, aside from the gentle lapping of waves against the boats and the hushed breathing of the first years. The boats glided smoothly to the base of the cliff on which the castle stood and then on through a curtain of ivy into a low, dark tunnel.

Eventually, they reached a small harbor, and James and Sirius clambered ashore, sprinting up the path before the other first years even had a chance to get their balance. The path was steep and uneven, but James and Sirius didn't care. They ran until they reached the grassy patch at the top, where they stopped, gasping for breath but grinning at the massive double doors before them.

"It's… big," James said, craning his neck to look up toward the towers far overhead.

"Big?" Sirius replied, panting. "It's… bloody _huge_!"

"Think you'll get lost?"

With a grin, Sirius shrugged. "I hope so. I bet I'll find some neat stuff."

"Like secret passages?" James asked, looking at the castle with new anticipation. "Think we can find them all?"

"The two of us? In seven years? We'd better."

James laughed. "We'll have to start straight away."

"Tomorrow?" Sirius asked.

"Why wait?"

They grinned, but just then, the giant man appeared with the rest of the first years, holding a lantern aloft and turning to check that all the students were present. Once they were all gathered, the man stepped forward, raised a massive hand, and pounded three times on the door.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who clicked on this story! I'd like to draw your attention to several of my other fics - _Moony's Story,_ _Padfoot_'s _Story, Wormtail's Story,_ and _Lily's Story_. All are companions to this story, and will be updated as we go along to tell certain events through the titular character's eyes. I'll let you know in author's notes here when each installment should be read, so if you're interested, keep your eyes peeled. (Alternatively, you can wait until the end of Year One and then read all the corresponding chapters of the companions, up to the first summer "Interlude" chapters. Your choice!) Happy reading!**


	2. The Hat and the Tower

**Chapter 2: The Hat and the Tower**

The doors swung open to reveal a tall, thin witch with black hair and a stern face, wearing emerald robes.

"Firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant man.

The witch nodded, sharp eyes scanning the assembled students. "Thank you, Hagrid. Follow me, students."

They did, and Professor McGonagall led them across a massive hall, past another set of doors to the right, through which James could hear a roar of conversation. The first years continued on through a smaller door into a dim, quiet antechamber, where McGonagall stopped and surveyed the group once more.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, and James grinned once more at the name. "In a few moments, you will be Sorted into your houses and join their table for the start-of-term feast. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff; whichever house you find yourself in will be your family for the next seven years."

McGonagall paused as an excited whisper ran through the crowded room. Students asked each other where they were hoping to go and latched on to others who hoped for the same house.

As the murmur died down, McGonagall continued. "Houses eat together, dorm together, and attend classes together. You will spend free time in your house common room and compete against other houses in Quidditch. Your triumphs will win your house points, while troublemaking, fighting, or rule-breaking will result in point deductions. The house with the most points at the end of term will receive the House Cup.

"You have a few moments to prepare yourselves," McGonagall said. "I will return when we are ready for you."

She left through the far door, and instantly, a buzz of conversation sprang up among the first years.

"My parents told me about the Sorting," said the boy next to Sirius, a plump, blond boy who looked anxious. "They said everyone gets nervous for no reason."

The girl beside him fidgeted and ran her fingers through her hair. "My brother says it's kind of like a test. You don't think we'll get kicked out if we do poorly, do you?" This started a chain of frantic protests and cries of, "But they didn't tell us to study!" and, "That's not fair!" and, "But we don't know any spells yet!" James and Sirius backed away from the panicking crowd.

"What do you suppose she means, prepare ourselves?" asked a girl behind James. He turned to see the redhead from the train. "Do you know, Sev?"

The pale boy hoping to be in Slytherin shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothing hard."

James nudged Sirius and grinned. "Well _I _hear you have to fight a troll."

Snickering as Severus and the girl paled, Sirius nodded his head. "Remind me, Snivellus, what was it you said about not wanting to be brawny?"

"You're lying," the girl said shrilly, her pallor swiftly replaced by a brilliant red flush. "You rotten little toerags! That wasn't very nice!"

"Sorry, _mum_," James said, rolling his eyes.

Sirius snorted. "Yeah. It was just a bit of fun."

The girl stuck her hands on her hips and scowled. "Well I'm not laughing."

"Don't be a prat," James muttered, turning away as the girl gasped. "C'mon, Sirius. Let's go find someone more fun."

They didn't get far before McGonagall returned. "Form a line," she said, but with all the chatter, half the room didn't hear. She cleared her throat and tried again, louder. "A line, please! Form a line and follow me! It's time for the Sorting."

Most of the students heard her this time, and those who didn't were clued in by the others, and in a few seconds, McGonagall led the first of the students through the door and into a room even bigger than the entrance hall. Four long tables ran the length of the hall, set with gold place settings and serving trays, all empty at the moment. Hundreds of faces watched the first years as they filed toward the fifth table at the front of the room, where the other professors sat. A rickety stool had been set out in front of the head table, a ratty black hat balanced atop it.

James turned his eyes up toward the dozens of floating candles and then to the ceiling, and blinked as he found himself looking at the night sky. Stars twinkled behind wispy clouds, and the crescent moon glowed dimly near the far wall.

"Must be enchanted, don't you think?" Sirius whispered behind him.

James shrugged, but didn't answer. His heart pounded in excitement as he and the other first years came to a stop facing the rest of the students. A voice began to sing, and James glanced around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and nodded toward the stool. He was shaking with laughter. "A singing _hat_," he muttered. "Where d'you suppose they found that?"

"No idea," James replied, grinning as the hat finished singing and fell silent. McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name," she said to the first years, "come forward and sit on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. Adrian, Scott."

A short boy with brown hair and freckles sat on the stool, gripping the sides with a death-grip as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. A moment of silence followed, and James watched with avid interest.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat cried. The table on the right erupted in cheers as Scott hopped off the stool, set the Sorting Hat down, and hurried to his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"Avery, Steven," McGonagall called.

The hat had barely touched the boy's lank brown hair before – "SLYTHERIN!"

The table next to Hufflepuff hooted and whistled, and Avery sauntered over, taking his place beside a boy with pale blond hair and a gleaming prefect's badge. James felt Sirius tense beside him, and James nudged him. Sirius turned his head slightly, eyes lingering on the Slytherins for a moment before flicking to James, who gave him a sympathetic smile and mouthed, _It'll be fine_. Sirius turned forward again and gazed unseeingly over the gathered students.

"Black, Sirius."

James gave a start. _Black? _His parents had told him about the Blacks – one of the oldest and proudest wizarding families, who valued blood purity above all else. The Blacks and the Potters had shared a certain enmity for the last few generations, ever since James' great-great-grandfather, Julius Potter, killed Alphard Black in defense of a muggle family, earning the loathsome title of blood-traitor, a derisive term the blood purists used for purebloods who were too fond of muggles and muggle-borns. But Sirius didn't seem a thing like the Blacks James had heard about.

A murmur ran through the hall, and someone at the Slytherin table called, "No need to Sort him, McGonagall! We all know where he belongs!" There was a rumble of agreement from the Slytherins. The fair-haired girl next to the blond prefect leaned over to whisper something in his ear, and they both smiled. James scowled.

"That's enough, Mr. Carrow," McGonagall said, frowning slightly. "Black, Sirius."

Sirius didn't move right away, and James turned to see that he had gone pale and rigid. McGonagall glanced their way, and James elbowed him. With a jerk, Sirius stepped out of the line of first years and marched to the stool. He sat as straight and stiff as a plank, his fists clenched at his side, and looked moments away from puking.

James crossed his fingers behind his back as McGonagall lowered the ragged brim of the hat over Sirius' ears. James held his breath. The Slytherins continued murmuring among themselves, leering up at the stage. Someone laughed. But James paid them no mind. All his attention was focused on Sirius, whose jaw clenched and unclenched as he swayed atop the stool. The seconds ticked by, and James wondered how long a simple Sorting could take.

"Not Slytherin," he muttered, heart pounding. "Anything but Slytherin."

The Great Hall had gone silent, and some of the Slytherins' smiles had started to slip. Everyone stared at the boy on the stool, waiting for the Sorting Hat's proclamation. When it came, the suddenness of the Hat's shout made everyone jump.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"YES!" James punched the air, earning a glare from McGonagall. He didn't care; he grinned maniacally as Sirius ripped the Sorting Hat off his head, sprang up, and bolted toward the leftmost table, which – after a moment of stunned silence – burst into cheers and catcalls directed at the shell-shocked Slytherins.

Movement at the Slytherin table caught James' eyes, and he turned to see the blonde girl on her feet, face contorted with rage. The prefect grabbed her arm and leaned over to whisper something. She tore her gaze away from Sirius, glared at the boy, and yanked her arm out of his grasp. For a moment, she looked ready to storm across the Great Hall, but then she folded her arms and slid back into her seat.

James frowned, but when he glanced back to the Gryffindor table, where a crowd of older students had gathered around to clap Sirius on the back, James forgot all about the Slytherins. Sirius glanced his way, and James flashed him a thumbs-up.

It took several minutes for the hall to quiet enough for McGonagall continue, but eventually the Sorting resumed with Catchlove, Greta joining the Gryffindors and Dorcas, Edwin becoming the first new Ravenclaw. When McGonagall called, "Evans, Lily," Severus' red-headed friend stepped forward and took her place on the stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

James wrinkled his nose as Lily removed the hat and, with a sad smile over her shoulder at Severus, hurried toward the cheering Gryffindors. Sirius caught James' eyes, grabbed a goblet from the table, and feigned puking into it. James snorted with laughter, cringing as McGonagall shot him another glare, and continued to laugh silently.

After the initial greeting, Lily sat silently at the Gryffindor table while Goodwin, Rachel and Grouse, Gretchen took their turns on the stool, but when the Hat sorted Howard, Alice into Gryffindor, the brunette struck up a conversation that drew Lily out of her reverie.

The Sorting dragged on, and James began to zone out, hardly hearing the long list of names or the houses the Sorting Hat called out. Shortly after Lockhart, Gilderoy sprinted for the Ravenclaw table with the Sorting Hat still perched on his head (_And I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be bright_, James thought, snickering as Gilderoy shuffled back to the stool and returned the Hat), McGonagall called Lupin, Remus, the boy James had knocked into on Platform 9 ¾. To James chagrin, Remus joined the Gryffindors. James only hoped the boy wouldn't hold a grudge.

At last, after Pettigrew, Peter scampered to the seat beside Remus, McGonagall read, "Potter, James."

As James stepped forward, he heard Sirius whistle shrilly, earning a few chuckles from the other students. James himself grinned as he hopped up on the stool. The Sorting Hat felt soft and light as it settled over his head, dropping to his nose so all he could see was worn black fabric. Now he just had to be sorted into Gryffindor, and he and Sirius could go on being best friends.

_Well, well_, said a voice in his ear. _Already friends with a Black, are we?_

_How'd you know that? _James asked, awestruck. A hat that could sing _and _read minds? Whoever created the Sorting Hat must have been an outstanding wizard.

_I see you didn't pay attention to my song, either. _If James didn't know better, he would have said the Hat sighed in his ear. _You are an interesting one, James Potter. You'd do well enough in all the houses._

_Well I can't _be _in all of them, can I?_

_Cheeky, too. Hmm… Awfully brave of you, giving young Mr. Black a chance. Yes, indeed… There's only one place for you, and that is… _"GRYFFINDOR!"

The cheers of James' new housemates reached his ears as he lifted the Sorting Hat off his head and bounded down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, sliding onto the bench beside Sirius, who grinned and threw and arm around James' neck.

"You made it!" Sirius said, feigning surprise.

James shoved him. "Me? What about _you_? I don't see you sitting with the Slytherins."

A grin split Sirius' face. "I know. My mum's gonna _kill_ me!"

"Don't sound so happy, mate. Dying would be bad."

Sirius only laughed, a single boisterous bark that drew more than a few surprised looks from the students around them. Several seats away, Lily looked up from her conversation with Alice to shoot James and Sirius a glare. James nudged Sirius and indicated Lily with a nod.

"Rotten luck, getting stuck with her," Sirius muttered, returning Lily's glare.

"Let's just hope Snivellus doesn't come, too."

They didn't have to wait long to find out. While Shacklebolt, Kinglsey strode regally to the Ravenclaw table, McGonagall called for, "Snape, Severus."

The Sorting Hat was silent for a long moment, and James saw Lily sit up a bit straighter, craning her neck to peer over the other students.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Lily sagged in her seat, her green eyes darkening as Severus made his way to the other side of the Great Hall. James let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Close call," he said, loud enough that Lily was sure to hear. "I was starting to think he _would _be in Gryffindor."

"Stop it," Lily snapped.

James could see tears in her eyes and smirked. "What? He got what he wanted, didn't he?"

Lily narrowed her eyes to slits and pursed her lips, but didn't respond. A moment later, she crossed her arms and turned her back on James who rolled his eyes at Sirius and made a face. Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes back.

"Just ignore her, mate. She's not worth it."

"You're not kidding." James twisted to look up at the dwindling line of first years. Only a dozen or so remained, but James had eaten nothing but sweets all day and he wanted to move on to the feast. From the longing looks Sirius kept shooting to the empty dishes, he felt the same.

At long last, Vance, Emmaline took her place with the Hufflepuffs, and McGonagall rolled up the list of names and took the Sorting Hat and stool away.

"Finally!" Sirius cheered. "Time to eat!"

A fourth year with straw-colored hair by the name of Sturgis Podmore, who sat across from James and Sirius chuckled and shook his head. "Not yet, I'm afraid. Professor Dumbledore usually says something before the feast."

Sirius groaned and propped his cheek on his fist, turning bored eyes to the head table. Dumbledore stood and raised his hands to quiet the conversations that had sprung up across the Great Hall. James watched with mild interest as the headmaster waited patiently for the clamor to die down.

Once the last voice fell silent, Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as he surveyed the students. "Welcome, all, to Hogwarts! Let's eat!" His voice carried throughout the hall, reverberating among the rafters. Before the echoes faded, Dumbledore had sat down and the dishes lining each table filled with food. Many of the students laughed as they filled their plates, and a pair of identical redheaded boys near the head of the Gryffindor table gave a standing ovation.

James and Sirius grinned and dug in, stuffing themselves with all manner of food, from brisket to mashed potatoes to zucchini. They ate until they thought they couldn't eat anymore, but when the food vanished and dessert appeared, they found they weren't quite full after all.

When everyone had finished eating, Dumbledore rose and gestured for silence once more. "Before I send you all off to bed, I have a few start-of-term notices to give. First years – and, in fact, all students – should note that the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden. Returning students will also notice a new addition to our grounds. The Whomping Willow is a rare and dangerous tree, and so I urge you all to exercise caution. We wouldn't want you - or the tree - getting hurt." Some students chuckled at his, and Dumbledore smiled. "Quidditch trials will be held the second week of term. Anyone interested…"

"Still stinks we can't try out," James muttered, and Sirius grunted in agreement.

"Next year," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "And, hey! We'll be on the same team!"

James grinned as Dumbledore continued his speech. "…our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Jasper Juniper." With a sweep of his arm, Dumbledore indicated a dark, fidgety man near the end of the head table, who started and dropped the gold fork he had been examining when the full attention of the gathered students turned to him. A good number of people clapped, but those who did seemed half-hearted, and the noise quickly died.

"And with that," Dumbledore said, "I bid you all goodnight."

The student body rose as a single unit, aside from the first years, who looked up in surprise as the prefects called for them to follow them to each house's common room. At the Slytherin table, the blond prefect and his friend (who James guessed was also a prefect, as she herded the first years toward the door), shot glares toward the Gryffindors.

"My cousin," Sirius whispered in James' ear. "Narcissa."

"She didn't seem too happy you were Sorted into Gryffindor."

Sirius snorted. "Course not. That's why mum likes her so much. You should've heard her this summer." He cleared his throat and pitched his voice high and arrogant. "'She's a true Black, our Cissy! Slytherin prefect, you know. And dating Lucius Malfoy – another prefect, I hear, and a pure-blood, needless to say.'"

James made a face. "Your family sounds like nutters."

With a grunt of agreement, Sirius turned away from the Slytherins and followed the other Gryffindors out of the Great Hall. "Just another reason to be glad I'm in Gryffindor."

While the first years congregated in the entrance hall, the older students vanished, their shouts and laughter echoing through the corridors. The Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw first years went their own separate ways while the prefects led the Gryffindors up a staircase and into a corridor behind a tapestry. James grinned. If everyone knew about passages hidden behind tapestries, he could only imagine what the castle's secrets would be like.

"Breakfast starts at seven sharp," a dark-haired, pimple-faced prefect called Eliot Donovan said, "and runs until the first class at nine. Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, will give you your timetables tomorrow morning."

Another prefect with brown hair in a long braid and a stubby nose, Louise Holoway, spoke next. "First years' curfew is ten o'clock, so make sure you're in the common room by then, or we'll be docked points. Gryffindor hasn't won the House Cup in four years. Let's put an end to that losing streak, eh?"

Eliot rolled his eyes and muttered, "Ruddy Prewetts. Ever since Molly left…"

James and Sirius exchanged a glance, but Louise shot Eliot a reproachful gaze and the conversation turned to a list of rules. James ignored the prefects for the rest of the walk, turning instead to study the corridor. They emerged from the passage behind the tapestry into a hall lined with suits of armor that turned their heads and raised hands in greeting as the first years marched past. A few minutes later, they started climbing a set of stairs lined with enchanted portraits.

"New students!" a woman in a Grecian gown cried, flying into her neighbor's frame to rouse a dingy-looking housewife.

"What do _you_ want?" the housewife moaned, yawning. "Don't you know what time it is?"

The Grecian woman smiled. "The first years are here! You all must be the new Gryffindors."

"Yep," James said, puffing up his chest.

"Splendid! My name is Daphne."

"James Potter. This is Sirius Black."

A murmur ran through the portraits, and James saw a man in a leotard leave his frame across the way, flitting from portrait to portrait to whisper in their occupants' ears. Some also left to spread the news, while others made their way to the housewife's frame to investigate.

"_Excuse_ me!" the housewife shouted, gathering her shawl around her. "What do you all think you're doing? This is—"

"A Black?" one of the other portraits asked, ignoring the housewife completely.

"No way! That prissy git must have misheard."

The housewife's face had gone splotchy. "Oh, sod off, you lot! I'm trying to sleep!"

But the other portraits paid her no mind and continued to peer at James and Sirius.

"In _Gryffindor_?"

"You sure he didn't say Siria Splack?"

James snickered. "What kind of name is _that_?"

Daphne crossed her arms. "He said Black. I'm sure of it."

Tilting his chin up, Sirius smirked at the gathered figures. "That's right. I'm a Black and I'm not in Slytherin. Got a problem?"

"Black! Potter!"

James turned to find Eliot frowning at them from the next landing. The other prefects and first years had disappeared. Nudging Sirius, James charged up the stairs, ignoring the prefect's glower.

"Come along. And do try to keep up."

One of the portraits, a tall, skeletal man in violet robes, chased after them, jostling the other portraits, who had begun to settle back into their frames.

"You two," he said, panting a bit as he caught up. "A Black and a Potter."

James raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Not every day you see a pair like you."

"Oh?" Sirius said. "Well get used to it. We're here to stay."

The skeletal man nodded emphatically. "Yes, yes. Of course. No – you see – I just thought… Fellows such as yourselves… I only wanted to say that…"

Eliot turned around and frowned at the little man. "Cobin," he said, a note of irritation in his voice. "Go away."

"Yes, well. Of course. You've got to get them off to bed, I'm sure. But while they're here – I mean, I've waited all summer! No one was here when I found the vault, you see… And I was ever-so-excited to tell someone…"

With a groan, Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not _again_, Cobin." He waved his hand in the air. "Just ignore him, you two. He does this all the time."

"'Does _this_?'" Cobin spluttered. "'_This_!' Like it's some kind of – of – of _game!_ I'll have you know that—"

"Yes, _sorry_ Cobin," Eliot said quickly, though James thought he sounded rather more distracted than apologetic. "Come on, you two. The common room is just up here."

Cobin deflated a bit as Eliot picked up his pace, and Sirius chuckled. "Wonder what he wanted to tell us."

James shrugged. "I dunno, but if a prefect wants nothing to do with it, it's probably worth a laugh or two. We'll have to ask him later."

"Here we are," Eliot said, stopping before a portrait of a large woman in a pink silk dress. "_Liriotypus_." The Fat Lady nodded her head and her frame swung forward to reveal a circular hole in the wall behind it. Eliot gestured James and Sirius through. "You'll need that password to get into the common room and dormitory. Don't forget it."

Sirius gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

Sighing, Eliot led them to a spiral staircase – one of two at the back of a cozy room furnished with plush red couches and stately mahogany tables. "I'll show you to your dorm. Your trunks will be there already."

* * *

**A/N: To anyone who may have been confused: The Alphard Black mentioned in this chapter is not Sirius' Uncle Alphard, who gave him money after running away. Julius Potter killed Alphard Black, cousin of Phineas Nigellus Black and Sirius Black I (Padfoot being the third Sirius Black in five generations). When you name all your kids after stars, you're going to have a lot of repeat names. In other news...  
**

**She was hoping for Slytherin so she could be with Sev, but the Sorting Hat put her in Gryffindor... with Potter and Black... Lily isn't quite sure what to think of that. Chapter 1 of _Lily's Story_: "Unfamiliar Territory" is up!**


	3. Students Out of Bed

**Chapter 3: Students Out of Bed**

Eliot Donovan led James and Sirius up a winding staircase to a door that, as far as James could tell, wasn't any different than the handful they had passed. The prefect raised a hand and rapped on the door. A voice called for them to enter, and Eliot pushed open the door. Six four-post beds stood against the walls, complete with red and gold curtains and bedspreads. Four boys sat on beds, already changed out of their school robes. The last two beds, which had James' and Sirius' trunks at their feet, occupied the far wall.

"I've found your missing dormmates," Eliot said heavily. "Don't stay up too late. Breakfast comes early."

He left, and James crossed to his bed and dug out his pajamas. Sirius followed suit. They changed in silence, and James glanced over his shoulder to see that the other four boys were staring – not at James, but at Sirius.

"You're a Black."

The boy who spoke had curly, dark brown hair and freckles peppering his round cheeks. He stared at Sirius with wide eyes, oblivious to the frown the scrawny, brown-haired boy in the opposite corner shot his way.

Sirius stiffened, but remained silent as he pulled his shirt over his head. Only then did he turn to smile darkly at the freckled boy. "I'm Sirius."

"Right," said the boy. "Sirius Black."

"So?"

The freckled boy glanced at the others, but none of them spoke. The plump boy on the bed next to him reached up to scratch his long, ruddy nose, his gray eyes sparkling in avid interest. Across the room, a nervous blond with small, watery eyes glanced from Sirius to the freckled boy and back. The fourth boy, the scrawny one, had pulled out a book and begun to read.

Seeing that he was getting no help, the freckled boy turned back to Sirius. "_So_," he said, pausing to clear his throat. "Blacks are always in Slytherin."

"Yeah?" Sirius asked in mock surprise.

"_Always_."

James flung his dirty clothes toward his trunk rather more vehemently than he intended, and they landed near the freckled boy's bed. Ignoring this, James frowned at the boy. "What's your point? _Sirius _is in Gryffindor."

The freckled boy fidgeted. "I know."

"So what's the problem?" James growled.

After a long moment of silence, James shrugged, retrieved his school robes and dumped them onto his trunk, and hopped onto his bed. Sirius muttered a, "Thanks, mate," and sat cross-legged on his own scarlet comforter.

James grinned. "So obviously you already know Sirius. I'm James Potter."

The freckled boy smiled weakly. "Frank Longbottom. And sorry. I just…" He smoothed his blanket and didn't finish the thought.

"You've heard about the Blacks," Sirius said. "And you assume I'm like the rest of them." James flinched at Sirius' tone.

Frank shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"

Sirius' laugh interrupted the apology, and James looked at him in surprise. "Don't worry about it," Sirius said. "I'd be more suspicious if you _didn't_ say anything."

"Who… who are the Blacks?" the plump boy asked hesitantly.

"This is Alexander Thorne," Frank explained when he saw James' and Sirius' surprised looks. "He's a muggle-born."

James nodded. "Got it. The Blacks are… well, they're an old wizarding family." He glanced to Sirius, not wanting to say anything that might offend him.

Sirius snorted. "My family's obsessed with blood status. They think purebloods like us are above muggle-borns and half-bloods. There are a bunch of families like that – you want to steer clear of the Malfoys and Carrows, too, and, well, pretty much anyone in Slytherin."

Seeing Alexander's fearful eyes, James spoke up. "If any of them bother you, let me know."

"Me too," Sirius said. "I'll hex them into next year."

"Hex the purebloods?" Frank said, raising his eyebrows. "Are you _sure _you're a Black?"

With a grin, Sirius flopped back onto his pillows. "Oh, Frank. You flatter me."

James' eyes flicked to the boys across the room from Frank and Alexander. "What about you two? What's your story?"

"Peter Pettigrew," said the nervous blond, grinning sheepishly at Sirius. "My parents always told me to stay away from the Blacks, but… you don't seem so bad."

The last boy was silent, and James looked at him. It was the boy he'd run into on Platform 9 ¾… What was his name? He wore his light brown hair long so that it shaded his eyes as he continued to read his book. James noticed a thin white scar running down his cheek nearly to his chin and wondered how the boy had gotten it.

Sirius cleared his throat, and the boy glanced up from his book, blinked once, and turned his attention back to the page. "Remus Lupin."

James and Sirius exchanged glances. "Not very talkative, are you?" James asked.

"Mmm." Remus flipped a page.

After staring at the taciturn boy a moment longer, James shrugged and turned to his other dormmates. "So, who likes Quidditch?"

-.-.-

Nearly two hours later, Alexander Thorne finally began to snore. Peter Pettigrew had dropped off first, shortly after introductions, and Remus Lupin had put his book away half an hour later. Frank Longbottom talked for a while longer before he began to nod off. But Alexander had dozens of questions about the wizarding world. James supposed he couldn't blame him – it would be weird, suddenly finding out you were a wizard.

That didn't make it any less frustrating.

Eventually, James and Sirius had claimed exhaustion and climbed under the covers, and Alexander had followed their lead. He asked only a few more questions – did all the portraits talk, or only the Fat Lady? and who made all the food for the feast? James answered curtly that all portraits talked, and he supposed house elves made the food. Then he tried not to groan as Alexander asked what a house elf was.

"It's hard to explain. Ask me in the morning."

Finally, though, Alexander fell asleep. As his light snores joined Peter's, James rolled out of bed.

"Still wanna explore?" James asked as Sirius threw back his covers.

"Do you even have to ask?"

They stood, wincing as the floorboards creaked, and spent several minutes peering nervously at their slumbering dormmates. When they were sure everyone remained asleep, they tiptoed to the door and slipped out into the stairwell, closing the door gently behind them. The common room was empty when James and Sirius reached it, the silence ringing in their ears.

"You think the Fat Lady'll get us in trouble?" James asked, his voice sounding unnaturally loud.

Sirius' brow furrowed for a moment before he shrugged. "One way to find out." He led the way to the portrait hole, James following close behind. With a shove, Sirius swung the portrait open. When the castle remained silent, Sirius grinned and clambered out into the Grand Staircase. He disappeared around the Fat Lady's frame.

"She's sleeping," came Sirius' hushed voice.

James joined Sirius on the landing and saw that Sirius was right – the Fat Lady lay slumped against her frame, snoring. James snickered. "So where should we go?"

Sirius shrugged and took off down the stairs. "Wherever."

"Cool." James hurried to catch up with Sirius, and they tramped down to the fifth floor landing, where Sirius veered off through an archway. James followed him into a torch-lit corridor. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls.

They'd made it halfway down the corridor when they heard voices ahead.

"Goodnight, Headmaster."

"Goodnight, Mr. Filch. Do _try _to get some sleep tonight, won't you?"

Sirius froze, but James didn't hesitate. He grabbed Sirius' arm and dragged him through a nearby doorway. They found themselves in what looked to be an empty classroom filled with desks, bookshelves lining the back wall.

At a screech that set his teeth on edge, James whirled and saw a short, round man with black hair dragging his fingernails across a chalkboard. Beside James, Sirius clapped his hands over his ears. The man turned away from the board, caught sight of the boys, and grinned.

"Ickle firsties out of bed?" he cackled, leaping straight up and hovering overhead. "What fun!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius hissed, glancing toward the door. "Just pipe down, will you? Someone's out there."

It was the wrong thing to say. The strange man's grin widened, and cupped his hands around his mouth. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!"

Swearing, James dragged Sirius out the far door before the professors could reach them, and the two boys sprinted down the hall. They could hear Filch's voice behind them as they ran: "Where are they? Where are they, Peeves?"

James and Sirius didn't stick around to hear more, but ran down the hall, dragging each other around corners, though doors, and down staircases. Eventually, they stopped, lost and winded, and bent double to catch their breath.

"Who… the bloody hell… was that?" Sirius panted, casting a wary look around.

James grinned. "Peeves."

"Who?"

"Peeves the Poltergeist," James explained. "My dad told me about him. Likes causing trouble, I hear."

"Think he'll lead Filch to us?"

James shrugged. "I don't want to take that chance."

"So, what?" Sirius asked. "Just go to bed?"

"More or less…" With a grin, James began to prod at the blocks of the wall. "Bet we can find a few secret passages before then."

After a moment of confusion, Sirius' grin matched James'. "Yeah, you're right!"

They wandered the castle, prodding random stones, lifting tapestries, peeking into suits of armor. As they wandered the first floor, just when James had begun to despair, Sirius gave an exuberant cry and waved James over to a tapestry depicting a swarm of bees stitched in gleaming gold thread. Sirius held it aside, revealing a dark, narrow opening.

Grinning, James and Sirius plunged into the darkness, arms outstretched as they groped blindly down the winding tunnel. They tripped over each other and jammed their fingers more than once on the damp stone walls. The boys' swearing echoed in the tight passage, followed by laughter and the sound of shushing.

The passage led them up – to the fourth floor, James thought, but Sirius swore it was the fifth – to a quiet hallway lined with dark classrooms. Their argument was cut short by a nearby hiss.

"Bloody cat," James hissed.

"Huh?" Sirius asked. "What about the cat?"

"It's Filch's. Mrs. Norris he calls her. I heard at dinner that he got her a few years back to help him find students breaking rules. He'll be here soon."

Reluctantly, Sirius agreed that they should give up their secret passage hunt for the night and return to Gryffindor Tower before Filch caught up to them. Even so, it took twenty minutes of running about, ducking in and out of classrooms as footsteps approached, before they reached the Grand Staircase. Once there, they charged up two flights to the seventh floor landing (Sirius was quick to point out he'd been right about where the secret passage let out), where they roused the Fat Lady.

Yawning, she fixed the boys with a sour look. "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep."

"Sorry," James said hastily, and not at all apologetically. "Would you just let us in?"

The Fat Lady glared at them a moment longer, then yawned and shook her head. "Oh, alright. Password?"

"_Liriotypus_."

Complaining through her yawns about inconsiderate students and lost sleep, the Fat Lady swung forward on her hinges. James and Sirius wasted no time in climbing through the portrait hole. Once safely in the common room, they relaxed, shooting each other thrilled grins.

"That was fun," Sirius said in the tone of one passing judgment. "Let's do it again sometime."

James laughed. "Obviously. But let's get some sleep now, yeah? We _do _have to get up early tomorrow."

They fell silent as they climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitories, afraid to wake any of the other students, and slipped into their room without a sound. The other four boys slept on, and James and Sirius climbed into bed. James fell asleep with a broad grin still on his face.


	4. The Howler

**Chapter 4: The Howler**

Dawn came early, and James almost regretted the previous night's excursion with Sirius. Almost.

"Rise and shine, gents," Frank Longbottom said with a yawn, and his bed creaked. Footsteps crossed the room, and someone threw the curtains back, flooding the room with light. James flung an arm up over his eyes. Groans came from several of the boys.

Sirius groaned the loudest. "Bloody hell, Frank. Warn us before you do that!"

Frank laughed. "Sorry."

"Hey, it's the first day of classes!" Alexander Thorne cried, and in James' opinion, he sounded entirely too happy for such an ungodly hour. "Wake up, everyone!"

This was met with another series of groans, but James heard movement, and more footsteps shuffling across the floor. James rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

"Wake up, James!" A body leaped onto James' bed, and James shoved it away, but Alexander grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

With a groan, James rolled over, knocking Alexander off the bed. "Alright already. I'm up." He sat up, yawning, and reached for his glasses. On the bed beside his, Sirius huddled under his blankets, motionless. Alexander turned his attention to the lump.

"Oy! Sirius!" James said before Alexander got the chance to pounce. Grabbing his pillow, James flung it at Sirius. "Best get up, mate, before Alex makes you."

Sirius muttered something unintelligible, but threw back his blankets and glared sleepily at Alexander. "'m up."

James glanced around, but it seemed all the other boys were already up. Peter Pettigrew stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, as Remus Lupin emerged, wearing his school robes and carrying his pajamas in a bundle under one arm. James noticed the Gryffindor crest on the chest of Remus' worn black robe; the house elves must have added it during the night. The crisp embroidery and pristine thread looked out of place on the worn fabric, and James realized that the only new article Remus wore was the red-and-gold tie – also supplied by the school.

Quickly averting his gaze as Remus tossed his pajamas onto his bed, James grabbed his own robes and started to change.

"You don't have to make the bed, you know," Sirius said suddenly. James looked up in surprise and saw Remus straightening his sheets. "The house elves will take care of that."

Remus just shrugged and finished, keeping his eyes on the bedspread as a faint pink tint crept into his cheeks. Sirius raised his eyebrows at James, who lifted his hands in a don't-ask-me gesture and adjusted his tie.

Ten minutes later, the six first year boys descended to the Great Hall and found their places at the Gryffindor table. James had never seen such a spread at breakfast – pancakes and toast, oatmeal and yogurt, bagels and donuts and dozens of different jams and butters and spreads. He heaped his plate with food and dug in.

Soon enough, Professor McGonagall came around with timetables. James stared at his in mild curiosity. Today was Wednesday, so he had Potions and Herbology in the morning, and Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch. Then…

"We've got class at midnight?" James asked, furrowing his brow. "That can't be right."

Professor McGonagall tutted. "When else do you expect to practice astronomy, Mr. Potter?"

James shrugged, and when McGonagall had moved on down the table, he turned to Sirius. "Guess we can't sneak out again tonight."

"Well, we _could_," Sirius argued, but he didn't sound enthusiastic about it. "Tomorrow night, then?"

James nodded and slathered his toast with blackberry jam. As he took a bite, the sound of flapping wings filled the Great Hall. Several first years gasped and murmured in astonishment as hundreds of owls descended through the arched windows, seeking out the recipients of the letters and packages they carried. Alexander Thorne nearly leapt from his seat.

"Wow!" he cried, dropping his fork. "What's that?"

Sirius frowned, scanning the gathered owls. "Owl post," he said.

Unlike Sirius, James was grinning as he caught sight of Luftwing among the owls, a small parcel clutched in his talons. He swooped toward James, the downdraft from his wings sending toast and napkins flying in all directions as he settled on the table before James.

Alexander's eyes looked ready to fall out. "Oh my god, he's _huge_!"

James grinned and untied the package from Luftwing's talons. "I know, isn't he awesome? Thanks, Luftwing!"

With a hoot, the Eagle Owl lifted into the air. Several nearby girls squealed and tried to control their windswept hair, sending James glares, but James ignored them and ripped open the package. His mother had written a letter that droned on about how much she missed him and how she hoped he was getting on alright and not getting into any trouble. James skimmed it quickly. At the bottom, his father had added a brief note:

_Sorry for the novel. Your mother's a bit lonesome, I'm afraid. We've included some treats. Try to make them last, okay? Have fun!_

Chuckling, James tossed the letter aside and peeled back the brown wrappings. A pile of chocolate frogs, homemade cauldron cakes, and other sweets sat there, begging to be eaten. _Make these last__? They'll be gone by Friday!_

Slowly, James became aware of a murmur rippling through the crowd and glanced around. The students were staring at the owls still flapping about overhead, some kids pointing, others clapping their hands to their mouths. The muggle-borns leaned over to their neighbors to ask what the fuss was about. James scanned the owls – and he saw instantly what had got everyone worked up. A sleek, black owl had appeared in the window carrying a large red envelope. A Howler.

James grimaced. He'd received a Howler once, the previous summer. His parents had gone to visit an old friend in France, leaving him in the care of a neighbor, Mrs. Renna. She hadn't appreciated James' sense of adventure, and had written his mother after James had accidentally destroyed her herb garden in a nasty broom crash. He still remembered how the Howler had exploded in his hands, shrieking about his appalling, inexcusable behavior, and how his mother couldn't believe her son could be so inconsiderate, and after Mrs. Renna had so kindly taken him in for the week!

Yes, James pitied whoever had got a Howler so early in the term. _They've got rotten luck_.

The whole hall followed the flight of the black owl, which swooped down toward the Gryffindor table. James frowned. Who—?

The owl crashed down in front of Sirius, who sat rigid, clutching a goblet of orange juice in a white-knuckled grip. The murmurs redoubled.

"That's the Black kid."

"No wonder – he's supposed to be in Slytherin."

"They wouldn't…! Just because of his Sorting?"

Sirius took a sip of juice and set the goblet down with a clink before reaching for the red envelope, which had begun to trail wisps of dark smoke into the air. The black owl took off in a burst of feathers, obviously keen to be far away when the Howler went off. James was about to tell Sirius it was best to just get it over with, but Sirius slid his thumb under the seal without hesitation, set the Howler on the table, and leaned back in his seat.

"FILTH!"

James jumped at the shrill voice, which boomed louder than even _his _mother's Howler. The Great Hall fell silent as every eye turned toward the shout.

"_GRYFFINDOR_? VILE, UNGRATEFUL CHILD! HOW DARE YOU? HOW _DARE_ YOU! YOU HAVE DISGRACED THE ANCIENT AND MOST NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! FILTH! SCUM! YOU ARE NOT MY SON! YOU REPUNGANT, HORRID BOY! CONSORTING WITH BLOOD-TRAITORS AND MUDBLOODS!"

The students let out a collective gasp, and James felt the blood drain from his face. But if James was pale, Sirius was downright ashen, his hands locked on the edge of the table, his eyes riveted to the smoldering letter. A shout came from the head table, and James turned to see the professors on their feet. Tall, silver-haired Professor Dumbledore was already at the end of the Gryffindor table, and McGonagall, too had wheeled away from passing out timetables to hurry toward the source of the screams.

But Mrs. Black wasn't done yet.

"SHAME! SHAME AND SCANDAL! YOUR FATHER CAN HARDLY BEAR TO FACE THE OTHER _RESPECTABLE_ WIZARDS BECAUSE OF YOU, SIRIUS ORION BLACK! YOU CAN THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS YOU ARE AT HOGWARTS AND NOT HERE WITH ME! WHEN I SEE YOU, BY MERLIN, I SWEAR I WILL REMIND YOU WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A BLACK! YOU HAD BEST THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU SHAME OUR NAME AGAIN! YOU—!"

Before the Howler could go on, McGonagall arrived, jabbing viciously with her wand. The Howler let out a thin wail and burst into flame. It crumbled into a pile of ash, leaving a resounding silence in the Great Hall.

"Mr. Black." McGonagall's voice shook slightly, and James saw that she, too had gone pale. "Are—?"

Sirius choked out a laugh, prying his hands off the table and reaching for his goblet. He raised it his lips, but with as much as his hand was shaking, James doubted any juice reached his lips. "_Noble_ House of Black, indeed!" he spat, voice full of venom. "Love you, too, _mother_."

"Mr. Black," McGonagall said again, concern etched on her taut face.

Dumbledore arrived then, placing his hand on McGonagall's shoulder. She nodded and stepped back.

"Sirius," Dumbledore whispered. Sirius turned and flinched at Dumbledore's piercing gaze. "Why don't we go have a little chat? Follow me."

Sirius stood stiffly and followed Dumbledore from the Great Hall. James watched them go, too stunned to say or do anything. No one spoke until the doors banged shut behind Dumbledore and Sirius. Then someone spoke up from the Slytherin table.

"Serves him right!"

McGonagall spun with the speed and ferocity of a whip, eyes blazing. "Mr. Carrow! Hold your tongue!"

A stout sixth year stood, sneering, and spread his arms wide. "But Professor, his mother was right. He belongs in Slytherin, not with those mudblood-loving Gryff—"

"WE DO NOT USE THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE HERE!" McGonagall snapped. "Fifteen points from Slytherin! And if you don't shut your mouth, it will be fifty!"

Another uncomfortable silence filled the room as a fuming Carrow allowed his friends to tug him back into his seat. Soon enough, the professors started herding the students out to their first classes.

"Oh, no," Frank groaned as they stood.

James glanced over at him, shoving his sweets into his bag. "What?"

"We've got Potions now."

"So?"

Frank grimaced. "With the Slytherins."

"Oh."

-.-.-

In the end, Potions wasn't as bad as James had feared. The Slytherins, especially Avery and Mulciber, hurled insults at the Gryffindors at first, and James would have liked to beat some decency into them, but Frank held him back. When the insults turned to the three muggle-borns in the room – Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, and Alexander Thorne – Frank and Remus both had to hold James in place.

Severus Snape scowled. "Stop it," he hissed.

The Slytherins rounded on him. "What, are you a mudblood lover, too?"

Just then, Professor Slughorn walked in, surveying the room. "My apologies for my tardiness," he said. "I had some… things to deal with after this morning's incident. Let's not waste any more time. Open your books to page twelve. And," he added sharply as the Slytherins shot snide glances to the muggle-borns. "Let me warn you now that I'm not in the mood for any… unseemly behavior."

After this, the class proceeded without interruption, though a tense silence filled the room whenever Slughorn wasn't lecturing. James traded glares with Avery and Mulciber all hour, only breaking eye contact when he had to focus on his work or to glance at the door, wondering when Sirius would join them. When class ended, Slughorn hovered near the students, forestalling any altercations. The Gryffindors traveled to Herbology in a pack and found the Hufflepuffs already gathered in Greenhouse One with Professor Sprout.

James glanced around as he entered the greenhouse, but Sirius was nowhere in sight. Sighing, he took a seat next to Frank and Peter at a bench covered with seed boxes and dirt. Professor Sprout, a plump woman with brown hair and a kindly smile, stood at the front of the greenhouse, wearing a heavy apron and dragon hide gloves. A variety of plants sat on a workbench behind her.

"Good morning, class."

The students murmured a reply. James glanced around again, as though he might have missed Sirius in his first look.

"No, no," Sprout said, drawing James' eye forward. Several students had pulled out their dragon hide gloves, but Sprout waved her hand. "You won't be needing your gloves today. I would like to give an overview of topics we will be covering this term." She reached behind her and grabbed a pot containing a slender, pale green shoot drooping under the weight of what looked like a large violet raisin. "Who can tell me the name of this plant?"

Quite a few hands shot up across the room. Professor Sprout nodded to Lily. "What's your name, young lady?"

"Lily Evans, Professor."

"Alright, Lily. What is it?"

"It's an Abyssinian shrivelfig," Lily said. "One of the main ingredients in shrinking potions."

"Exactly right. Five points for Gryffindor." Sprout plucked one of the shrivelfigs and pinched until a clear liquid oozed out from a split in the leathery skin. "There's not much to the plant itself. The juice is nowhere near concentrated enough to produce any shrinking effects, even if you were to eat a dozen shrivelfigs – which I don't recommend, as they have a rather sour taste. We will be working with these plants extensively this year. Standard greenhouse skills and such. They're quite easy to cultivate, so even if you somehow manage to kill the lot, it won't be too great a loss."

The class chuckled, and Sprout set the pot down. Next, she grabbed a thin, weedy-looking plant that spread its shoots wide so that they tumbled over the lip of the pot and down to the floor. Tiny, pale yellow flowers stood out against the dark shoots.

"Let's try a harder one. Anyone know what this is called?"

Fewer hands rose into the air this time. Lily and Remus were the only Gryffindors to do so, along with four Hufflepuffs. Sprout pointed to a Hufflepuff boy.

"Yes, Scott?"

"That's glimmerweed. My mum grows them in her garden. In spring, the blossoms glow."

Sprout smiled. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Yes. Glimmerweed is another plant you will grow quite familiar with, although it's a bit late in the season to do much with them now. We'll start our work with them in February."

Professor Sprout replaced the glimmerweed on the bench next to the Abyssinian shrivelfig and picked up the third and final pot. The dark shoots shone in the midmorning light, the leaves sweeping and fanlike. There was little remarkable about this plant, and James frowned.

"Last, but not least." Sprout lifted the pot so everyone could see it. "This one's the toughest of the bunch. Harder to identify without its flowers, but let's see if anyone's got a guess."

The greenhouse was silent for several seconds as students furrowed their brow in concentration or else stared blankly at the professor. Then, slowly, Remus raised his hand.

Professor Sprout's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Yes…?"

"Remus Lupin," the boy said softly.

"Yes, of course." Sprout's face softened, which James found strange. Did Sprout know Remus? "You know what this is?"

Remus nodded. "_Aconitum vulparia_. Also called monkshood or wolfsbane. Its roots and leaves are poisonous to most beings, but it's mostly used as a… ward against werewolves."

Several students nodded their heads as Remus spoke, as though suddenly recognizing the plant.

Professor Sprout smiled. "You've got a knack for Herbology, Remus. Not many first years can identify monkshood when it's not in bloom. Ten points to Gryffindor." She turned to the rest of the class. "In late spring and early summer, monkshood can be recognized by its distinctive blue flower, but it is poisonous year-round. We'll spend some time with it after Easter, practicing our techniques for dealing with dangerous plants. No worries – as long as you wear your gloves and keep the plant out of your mouths, you won't be in any danger," she added hastily as several of the students paled. Her gaze swept the room, coming to rest on Remus, who was the palest of the lot. Professor Sprout opened her mouth—

The greenhouse door opened, and every head swiveled toward it. Sirius met the students' gazes with an easy grin and walked down the aisle. "Sorry I'm late, Professor," he said as he slid onto the bench between James and Peter.

"It's quite alright." Sprout set down the monkshood and wiped her gloves on her apron. "I was just giving an overview of the plants we will be working with. Abyssinian shrivelfig, glimmerweed, and monkshood." Sprout counted them off on her fingers. "You will use other plants, but these will be the ones we work with the most this year. For tomorrow, I want you all to read the sections in the book discussing these three plants."

As Sprout rattled off a series of page numbers, James turned to Sirius. "You okay, mate?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Fine. Why?"

"I…" James hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable. Surely Sirius knew what he meant. "What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?"

With a shrug, Sirius dug out some parchment and a quill. "Oh, you know." He smiled, but James saw the strain around his eyes. "Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Headmaster stuff."

James snorted, but Sirius ignored him, scratching out a few notes on what Sprout was talking about. The quill in James' hand remained still, and he didn't hear a thing Sprout said. "How do you suppose she knew?"

Sirius' grip tightened on his quill, and he scowled. "Cissy."

"What?"

"Narcissa." Sirius stopped taking notes to look at James. "My cousin. I'll bet you anything she sent my dear old mother an owl after the feast last night."

_That rotten little snitch. _"What for? It's none of her business!"

"Tarnishing the Black family honor?" Sirius let out a derisive sound. "Of course it's her business. My whole family's mental about stuff like that."

James opened his mouth to answer, but Frank nudged him. "Better stop," Frank muttered, nodding toward the front of the greenhouse, where Sprout stood, gaze fixed on James and Sirius, mouth turned downward into a frown.

With a commiserating smile to Sirius, James turned his attention to the lesson and began to take notes on soil types and fertilizers and the proper amount of water to give different plants. He never would have guessed that growing plants took so much effort, but Sprout managed to fill the hour with hundreds of instructions, warnings, and tips, and James was too busy writing to give Sirius or the Howler another thought.

* * *

**A/N: Just what kind of "Headmaster stuff" did Dumbledore and Sirius discuss? To find out, go to my profile and read _Padfoot's Story_, chapter 1: Headmaster Stuff.**


	5. The Lost Treasure of Hogwarts

**Chapter 5: The Lost Treasure of Hogwarts**

Sirius was especially cheerful at lunch that day, striking up conversation with the other Gryffindors and talking so animatedly that James could hardly get a word in edgewise. He suspected Sirius just didn't want to talk about what had happened that morning, and James had to admit, he wouldn't want to talk about it in front of a hundred other students, either, so he let it go. For now.

After lunch, they had Defense Against the Dark Arts. Despite the name of the class, Professor Juniper spent very little time talking about defensive spells. Instead, he lectured the class on all the ways a dark wizard could maim, kill, or incapacitate them, leaving more than one student pale and jittery by the end of class.

"That was awesome!" James cried as he filed out of the room with the rest of the class.

Beside him, Sirius snickered. "You think we could learn some of those hexes? I'd love to use them on the Slytherins."

James' smile faltered. "Hey, Sirius?"

"What?" Sirius sounded defensive, and James licked his lips nervously.

"W-wanna go to the Owlery with me? I've got a letter to send."

Sirius shrugged. "Okay, sure. Which way?"

"I'm… not sure… West tower, was it?"

"So, another adventure?" He grinned, and James could see no trace of his moodiness now. "Alright. Westward!"

They set off, asking the portraits for directions. James spent the first few minutes in silence, contemplating whether and how to breech the subject of the Howler. Before long, though, with Sirius giving him suspicious looks and them running into several dead ends, he gave up and helped Sirius navigate.

A portrait of a fat man in ruffles and a feathered cap directed them to a ladder hidden in a broom cupboard, which took them to the sixth floor. Another quarter hour of wandering and three more staircases later, they finally emerged into open air, climbing stairs that curved around the Owlery.

Sirius grinned as he hurried through the door, calling Luftwing to him. "Where's the letter?"

"Uh…" James cast around for some excuse, but found none. He sighed. "Sirius, look… Truth is… There is no letter."

Sirius frowned. "Then what are we doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk – away from everyone."

"Bloody hell, James!" Sirius flung his hands up, startling Luftwing, who let out an agitated hoot and retreated to his perch. "How many times do I have to say it? I don't want to talk about it!" He stormed for the door, but James blocked his exit.

"She… doesn't really talk to you like that, your mum?"

Sirius glowered at him and turned away, making a sound not unlike Luftwing had a moment earlier.

"She does, then? Ugh. You weren't kidding when you said they'd kill you."

For a while, James was silent. He couldn't imagine living with someone like that. Mrs. Potter may have yelled at James – a lot – when he misbehaved – which was all the time – but she would never send James a Howler just for getting into the wrong house. It was mad!

At length, James crossed his arms and shook his head. "Well, I don't care what your mum says. I'm glad you're in Gryffindor."

Sirius' shoulders lost their rigid set, and he turned, smiling faintly. "Me too."

"Besides," James said. "You'd make a rotten Slytherin."

"They're all rotten."

"True."

"They're gonna be a right bunch of gits the next few days, aren't they?"

"Yep."

"We should do something about that."

James blinked. "Like what?"

Sirius only grinned.

-.-.-

An hour later, James and Sirius left the Owlery in considerably higher moods than they'd entered with.

"I can't wait to see their faces!"

James nodded enthusiastically. "I don't think you'll have a problem with them after this." He paused, thinking. "Well, you will… But not the same problem."

"I can deal with whatever pathetic revenge they try to take," Sirius said with a devilish grin. "What's the worst they can do? Get my mother to send me another Howler?"

Laughing, they thundered down the stairs, wondering how to spend the rest of their afternoon. James didn't have any real idea, but suggested stopping in their room first to get rid of their bags, so they found their way to the Grand Staircase.

As they climbed back out through the portrait hole several minutes later, they heard a familiar voice calling their names.

"Mr. Black! Mr. Potter! The odd couple!"

James raised his eyebrows and turned to the violet-robed, skeletal man in a nearby frame. "Hey! …Cobin, was it?"

The man nodded. "Yes! So glad you remember me."

"How could we forget?" Sirius asked.

James grinned. "Come to tell us what Eliot didn't want to hear?"

"If you would hear me out," said Cobin, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture. "I know everyone else here thinks I am playing some sort of game, but I swear to you I am not!"

Waving his hand, Sirius said, "Just tell us already!"

The pale man nodded. "Have you boys heard of the lost treasure of Hogwarts?"

James and Sirius exchanged a startled look. "No," said James.

"What's that?" asked Sirius.

"Legend has it the four Founders of Hogwarts amassed a vast treasure and hid it somewhere in the school. Now, I don't know whether it was the Founders who hid it, but the treasure _does _exist."

"Really?" James crossed his arms and frowned. "Have you seen it?"

"Well… no. But portraits talk, you see, and I have spent a long time hunting down the truth. Over the years, certain rooms have been sealed up in the dead of night, or in summer when there are no students larking about after hours." He gave the boys a hard stare, and Sirius blinked.

"You know about that?"

Cobin's dark eyes flashed as he gave a sly grin. "We portraits know very nearly everything that goes on in this school, my boys. Like this prank you two are pulling on the Slytherins."

James gave a start. "But – there aren't any portraits up by the Owlery!"

"We have ears, you know."

"You aren't going to tell the professors, are you?"

Sirius snorted. "Go ahead. So what if they give us a detention or two?"

But Cobin held up his hands. "I cannot speak for the other portraits, but I assure you, your secret is safe with me." He cleared his throat. "Regardless, I have gathered quite a bit of information on the lost treasure, and I am close to discovering it. I just need your help."

"_Our_ help?" James pointed at himself and then at Sirius. "A couple of first years? What use are we?"

"Hey!" Sirius protested. "I'm all sorts of useful!"

"You know what I mean. What can a pair of first years do that older students or professors couldn't do better?"

"Well…" Cobin coughed into his hand and began to stride down the hall, passing from frame to frame. James and Sirius hurried to follow, and Cobin glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. "As I have said, most people – indeed, nearly everyone but the two of you – believe I am playing at some farce or else mad like Sir Cadogan. It would be… advantageous to have the aid of a professor, but I will take whomever I can get."

"How come no one believes you?"

Cobin twitched at Sirius' question. "There have been a few times in the past that I have been… shall we say, a bit off in my investigations."

"So you've sent a bunch of people on wild goose hunts," James said with a smirk. "And now they've gotten wise to you and won't help anymore."

Sirius snickered as Cobin's face flushed red. "So what's the big deal about this treasure? I mean, you're a guy in a frame – no offense—"

"None taken."

"It's not like you've got any use for a pile of galleons."

Cobin stopped walking to turn and spread his arms wide. "But that's just it, don't you see? To the wizarding world, I'm just a silly man in a frame! But if I were to help recover the Founders' treasure – or indeed, any lost treasure of Hogwarts – my name would be famous! I would become far more than a man in a frame. I would have the respect I deserve!"

An awkward silence fell as James crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the man, and Sirius snickered into his hand. Color rose in Cobin's cheeks and, with a cough, he tucked his hands behind his back and walked on.

"Well?" he asked at length. "What say you?"

James glanced at Sirius, who put on a straight face.

"Our studies come first," Sirius said.

James nodded solemnly. "And we'll have to make sure it's alright with the Headmaster."

"And we can't put ourselves in any danger."

"And of course, we _absolutely_ can't go sneaking about after hours. Just _think_ of all the points we'll lose!"

A smile tugged at Sirius' lips, but he reigned it in. "And all the detentions we'll get!"

"This could ruin my chances at being made prefect!" James wailed.

At this, Sirius finally lost it. He burst out laughing and leaned on James for support as startled portraits turned to stare at them. "Oh, that's rich! You, a prefect? Ha!"

"It could happen!" James protested, but he was laughing, too.

"You _want _to be a prefect?"

"Not really. But if I _was_, that would be one less person to get us in trouble!"

Cobin cleared his throat. "So, can I count on your help?"

James looked at Sirius, who looked back at James. "Sure," said James.

Sirius grinned. "Why not?"


	6. The Pranks Begin

**Chapter 6: The Pranks Begin**

They weren't able to begin their search for the Lost Treasure of Hogwarts that day, as they had Astronomy at midnight – an interesting enough class, though James would rather the time be spent roaming the castle. All the first years had the class at the same time, but each house huddled together, with the exception of one pair: Lily Evans and Severus Snape stood side-by-side at the front of the group of students as Professor Ruche pointed out various constellations and planets.

The following morning, James' dormmates were slow to get up. Even Alexander Thorne barely managed a mumbled "good morning" as he trudged into the bathroom. James pulled his pillow over his face, but before he could slip back into oblivion, someone shook him awake.

"Gerroff, Alex," James moaned, swinging his hand blindly. He heard Sirius laugh.

"It's me, mate. Get up."

"Gerroff, Sirius."

Sirius shook him again. "C'mon, James. We don't want to miss _breakfast_!"

Before James could make a smart retort, his mind came fully awake. "Oh!" He sat up, wide awake, and turned to Sirius, who was already half dressed and grinning like a madman. Flinging back his bedspread, James leaped to his feet and changed hurriedly.

He snatched up his bag and sprinted after Sirius, fumbling with his tie. They ran all the way to the Great Hall, despite an admonition to slow down from Professor McGonagall when they passed her on the third floor. A smattering of students had already reached the Great Hall when James and Sirius arrived and settled themselves side-by-side on the bench facing the Slytherin table. They still had some time to wait, of course, but they were too excited to care. Piling their plates with food, they ate greedily while the rest of the school filed in.

"So what was the big rush?" Frank Longbottom asked as he sat down across from them with Alexander and Peter Pettigrew.

"You'll see," Sirius said, skewering a piece of sausage on his plate.

The other boys exchanged confused looks, but James and Sirius remained stubbornly silent, and the boys eventually gave up their questioning.

Soon enough, the owl post arrived. A few of the first year muggle-borns stopped eating to watch, but for most of the students, the novelty had already worn off, and they ate without looking up.

James and Sirius, on the other hand, simultaneously set their forks down and sat up a bit straighter, scanning the incoming owls. James ran the back of his hand across his mouth as he muttered, "Come on… _come on_… Where are they?"

"They'll come," Sirius whispered, but he was frowning now. "Wait… There!"

"Yes!"

James' shout drew the attention of several students. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs, and they both dropped their gazes from the owls overhead, and the students soon lost interest. Snickering, James risked a glance up.

"There's another one!" he whispered excitedly.

"And two more!" Sirius added, pointing. As they watched, more and more owls entered the Great Hall bearing large red envelopes toward the Slytherin table. Half a dozen were already visible, and that number grew with each passing minute.

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked them as he loaded his plate with another serving of Danishes.

Frank frowned suspiciously and turned to see what they were looking at. When he saw the swarm of Howlers, his jaw dropped open. He whirled and fixed James and Sirius with an appalled look. "You… didn't have anything to do with this, right?"

James and Sirius smothered their grins.

"Not so loud," James said, waving his hand and glancing around to make sure there were no professors nearby. "You'll get us caught."

Peter looked shaken. "What did you do?"

"Well…" Sirius broke off as the first Howler landed in the lap of a startled Slytherin sitting next to the prefect Lucius Malfoy. A heated conversation erupted at the Slytherin table, and the short, thick boy nervously undid the seal.

"GALLUS JEFFRY GOYLE!"

For the second time in as many days, a hush fell over the Great Hall as the entire school twisted to stare at the Howler.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU'RE A SIXTH YEAR! YOU OUGHT TO KNOW BETTER!"

Goyle's face had gone red as he slouched in his seat as though trying to vanish beneath the edge of the table. Just then, another Howler erupted at the other end of the Slytherin table.

"EVAN CORNELIUS ROSIER! YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!"

And then another: "AMYCUS FRANCIS CARROW!"

"ADAM LEWIS MULCIBER!"

More and more Howlers arrived, their screeching voices swelling to fill the Great Hall, drowning each other out. When two Howlers exploded simultaneously before Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy, Sirius dissolved into fits of laughter, burying his head in his arms to hide his mirth. James was grinning, too, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Slytherin's shell-shocked faces.

With so many Howlers going off, the noise was almost unbearable, and most students clapped their hands to their ears as they watched events unfold. Little of what the Howlers said could be distinguished in the ruckus, but that hardly mattered. James heard the rumors spreading around him – they'd pulled a massive prank; they'd attacked a muggle-born; they'd snuck into the Forbidden Forest; they'd attacked a _pureblood._ One person even suggested drugs.

Sirius evidently heard the theories, too, for his shoulders shook with laughter, and James could see a red flush burning on the tops of his ears.

Eventually, the Howlers began to burst into flame, until only Narcissa's remained.

"—LUCKY YOU HAVEN'T BEEN STRIPPED OF YOUR PREFECT'S BADGE! EVEN YOUR COUSIN SIRIUS HAS MORE SENSE THAN THAT! I HOPE YOU'RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT!"

In the silence that followed, James and Sirius struggled to contain their laughter. It did them no good; sharp footsteps came up behind them.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Black."

They turned to see Professor McGonagall glowering down at them. James swallowed his smile. "Yes, Professor?"

"My office. Now."

-.-.-

McGonagall's office was impeccably organized. Not a single scroll of parchment was out of place; the chair behind her highly-polished desk had been pushed in. Only one book sat out, and with a flick of her wand, McGonagall banished it back to the shelf with the others. Sunlight streamed brightly through the pristine windows despite the early hour.

"Sit." McGonagall conjured a pair of stools, and gestured toward them.

James perched on one of the stools and furrowed his brow innocently. "What's—"

"Don't give me that, Mr. Potter," McGonagall snapped, sitting behind her desk. "You know exactly why you are here."

With a glance at Sirius, James shook his head. "I'm not sure I do."

McGonagall folded her hands on her desk. "The Howlers, Mr. Potter. Several portraits have informed me that they saw you and Mr. Black coming out of the Owlery yesterday afternoon, talking about the Slytherins and breakfast today."

James squirmed on his stool, but Sirius met McGonagall's gaze calmly. "We didn't send those Howlers, Professor," he said. "I mean, you heard them. Did they _sound_ like us?"

"I am aware that you did not make and send over a dozen Howlers by yourselves." McGonagall did not look amused. "However, a large number of school owls _were _sent out yesterday just before you two were seen leaving the Owlery."

"Oh, come on, McGonagall," James said, rolling his eyes.

"That's _Professor_ McGonagall, Mr. Potter."

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall," James amended. "We're really sorry, and it'll never happen again. Can we go now? We've got class soon."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "Yes. Transfiguration. I think I'll understand if you're a few seconds late."

Sirius nodded. "Thanks, Professor. Now I think we'll just—"

"Detention," McGonagall said. "Tonight. Both of you be here by eight."

"But—" James began.

"That is all." McGonagall waved them away. "Get to class. I'll be right behind you."

With a heavy sigh, James walked out of the office with Sirius and turned toward the Transfigurations classroom, which was at the end of the corridor. "Can't believe she gave us detention," he muttered.

Sirius shrugged, walking with a spring in his step. "Worth it, though. Did you _see_ their faces?"

At that, James had to laugh. "Yeah, I'll never forget it!"

The rest of the Gryffindor first years were waiting in the classroom when they opened the door, and every eye turned to them. Several students stared for only a few seconds before turning back to their conversations. Lily Evans and Remus Lupin, who sat together at the front of the room, frowned at them a moment longer. Remus looked away first, and murmured something that made Lily huff and spin around in her seat.

James and Sirius took their seats in the back row, behind Frank and Peter, who turned around. Disapproval and amusement warred on Frank's face, but Peter's was a mask of awe.

"That was _you_?" Peter asked.

Sirius laced his fingers together behind his head, leaning back smugly in his chair. "Course not. It was a bunch of angry mothers."

"We just… facilitated," James added.

"You wrote their parents?" Frank asked. "That's what everyone's saying."

"What did you tell them?" Peter added.

James scratched his chin. "Oh, this and that. Sirius came up with it all."

Frank and Peter looked to Sirius expectantly, and he grinned at the attention. "Well, you know. Mostly just sent out official-sounding notices. Let the parents figure it out. Some of them were a bit more… personal."

James snickered as he thought of some of the more creative stories Sirius had come up with. Lucius Malfoy's mother had received a note from a "concerned Slytherin" saying he had dumped Narcissa for a muggle-born. The Crabbes and the Goyles received identical letters, only with the names switched, informing them that their son had led an expedition into the Forbidden Forest, a jaunt that ended after a werewolf attack landed the other boy in the hospital wing.

Peter shrank in his seat as Sirius listed off the stories, and Frank laughed incredulously. Remus had turned in the front row to glare at them again, and James shot back a smirk. Lily touched Remus' arm, and he broke eye contact.

"You didn't _really_ say all those things," Peter whimpered, peering over the back of his seat. "Did you?"

"You bet we did!" Sirius said. "We had to make sure _some_ of them would get Howlers."

"We got more than I expected," James confessed.

Sirius snorted. "You don't know the Slytherin families, mate. They take good behavior and family pride very seriously. If you get an official letter of discipline sent home, you can bet you'll get the switch at the next holiday. I figured they wouldn't all want to wait four months."

"But…" Peter's eyes darted around the room. "Won't the Slytherins be mad?"

"Sure," James said. "But we can handle a few measly Slytherins."

Frank opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, McGonagall walked through the door, sending a stern look at James and Sirius, and strode to the front of the room to begin her lesson. Frank and Peter obediently turned forward and began to take notes. Satisfied with the morning's work, James dug out his own quill and parchment and did the same.

-.-.-

When James and Sirius walked out of Herbology that afternoon, a petite brunette grabbed Sirius and dragged him behind Greenhouse Two. James followed, pulling out his wand, but Sirius waved off his concern. James lowered his wand but didn't put it away.

"Andromeda," Sirius said with a smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

The girl, who wore a Slytherin uniform and looked to be a sixth or seventh year, pursed her lips. "Don't get smart with me, Sirius. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that they're a bunch of gits and needed a good Howler."

Andromeda sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her dark brown eyes fluttering closed. "Sirius, I love you. _Really_, I do. I don't want Cissy to kill you."

"You know Narcissa?" James asked in surprise. Sirius laughed at that.

A smile tweaked Andromeda's lips. "Better than most. She's my sister."

"Wait, you're a Black, too?" James sputtered, staring from Andromeda to Sirius and back. They flashed identical wry smiles and nodded. "But… Sirius, I thought you said your whole family was a bunch of crazy blood purists."

"_Almost_ my whole family." Sirius shrugged. "We're a rare breed, us good Blacks, but we do exist."

Andromeda chuckled. "You have a very strange definition of 'good,' dear cousin, in light of your little stunt this morning. Keep it up and you'll get blasted from the family tree."

"You think?" Sirius grinned. "That'd be wonderful."

"Maybe not as wonderful as you think."

Sirius' smile disappeared and he furrowed his brow. "I heard your mum talking about it this summer. She actually did?"

"Yeah. A few weeks ago, when they finally realized I wouldn't change my mind."

"Sorry," James interrupted, shaking his head. "But I'm lost. Blasted off the family tree?"

Sirius grimaced. "It's the worst possible punishment, at least for most of my family. You're completely cut off – no money, no contact. Nothing. It's like you never existed."

James noticed that Andromeda's face had gone taut as Sirius spoke, but when he turned back to her, she plastered a strained smile on her face. "That's the gist of it," she said.

"What I want to know," Sirius said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "is why? I mean, why _now_? I know my parents have been telling yours for years that you're a bad example. They seem to blame you for the way I turned out."

She laughed. "_Me_? Good lord, _you're_ the one who wanted to play with the muggles down the street and go to the muggle shops and get a muggle tele-whatsit! If anything, _you've_ corrupted me."

"No way! You've always been pretty decent for a Black."

"Decent, sure." Andromeda stared at the grass under her shiny black shoes. "But until a few years ago, I was as bad as the rest of them with the whole blood purity thing. I thought my name meant something, and I wanted it to stay that way. There _was_ a reason behind my Sorting, you know."

Sirius shook his head. "But you never treat muggles and muggle-borns like the rest of them."

"I just don't like violence. Believe me, growing up with Bella—"

"Bella?" James interrupted.

Andromeda and Sirius' expressions darkened. "My other sister," Andromeda said. "She's… cruel. Enjoys tormenting anyone and everyone who doesn't live up to her expectations. It's enough to turn anyone off to violence. Even Cissy – you'll never catch _her_ using the Cruciatus curse."

"I'll bet Bella just _loves _that one guy," Sirius said. "What's his name? You know."

"Voldemort," Andromeda whispered, glancing around.

James balked. "The muggle-killer?"

Andromeda nodded. "Bella worships him. Says he's got the right idea. If he weren't so hard to track down, I think she'd have joined him already." With another glance around, she shook her head. "We shouldn't be talking about him." She glared at Sirius and James. "_You two_ shouldn't even know about him. The Minister doesn't want underage wizards thinking he's a bigger problem than he is."

"Is _that_ why my parents are always calling him _You-Know-Who_?" James asked. "Jeez. Just makes him sound _worse_."

Andromeda sighed. "I know, but still… Look, Sirius, I just wanted to warn you. Cissy's in a fit. I'd watch out for her if I were you."

"Thanks for the warning," Sirius said. "I can handle whatever she throws my way."

"What did you tell my mother, anyway? After Bella, it takes an awful lot to make her mad enough for a Howler." Her face darkened momentarily, but she shook her thoughts away and looked at Sirius, who grinned.

"Oh, you know. Said she'd attacked a first year muggle-born."

Andromeda frowned. "That's it? I'd have thought Mum would be _proud_ of that."

Smirking, Sirius continued. "In front of McGonagall."

"Ah. The all important anonymity of the Mudblood Hunt," Andromeda said, her voice thick with disgust.

"The what?" James asked.

"Oh, just an old Black family tradition. Give muggle-borns a hard time, attack them. Whatever. Just make damn sure no one knows it's you. There _are_ laws against it, after all."

James made a face. "That's horrible."

"Tell me about it." Andromeda turned back to Sirius. "But that's all? Seems like something my mother wouldn't trust to a Howler."

An evil glint entered Sirius' eyes. "Well, there was _one_ more thing… The only reason Cissy didn't get expelled or stripped of her prefect's badge or some such is that she lost the duel she picked. Against a muggle-born." Sirius paused, smirking. "Who's a first year." Another pause. "And a Hufflepuff."

Andromeda burst out laughing, but scrunched her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, Sirius, you _didn't_!"

"Of course I did. Cissy needs to learn to keep her nose out of my business."

"She _won't_. She knows it was you."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, thanks for the warning, at any rate. I'll be fine."

"Alright. Be careful." She peered around the corner of the greenhouse. "I'm going to be late to Herbology. Just… don't do anything stupid."

Sirius grinned. "Never. Wait," he added as Andromeda started to hurry away. She turned. "You never told me what got you blasted off the family tree."

Eyes lighting up, Andromeda beamed and held up her left hand. "I'm getting married next summer."

"Congratulations," James said.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "To who?"

"Ted Tonks," she said, blushing. "He's a muggle-born."

Laughing, Sirius shook his head. "And heaven forbid we have one of _those_ in the family. I'm so glad I'm not that pig headed."

With one last smile, Andromeda turned and hurried toward Greenhouse Three. Sirius kept chuckling as he and James headed back to the common room. James rolled his eyes. _These Blacks are one messed up bunch_, he thought as Sirius gave the Fat Lady the password. The common room was mostly empty, aside from Peter Pettigrew, who sat in a corner working on the Potions essay due the next day, Remus Lupin, curled up in an arm chair with a book, and a pair of fourth years practicing a spell by the fireplace.

James and Sirius were both too wound up to start their essay, so they dumped their bags on the floor and struck up a game of exploding snap. The rest of the afternoon passed in games and the occasional retelling of their prank to curious Gryffindors who had heard bits and pieces throughout the day. After one such dramatic rendition, Remus shut his book with a snap and stalked up the stairs toward the boys' dormitories. James watched him go and rolled his eyes.

"He's almost as bad as Evans," James muttered to Sirius, who flicked his gaze to the stairs and snorted.

"Just ignore him. He probably thinks it's a crime to have fun."

-.-.-

James felt twitchy at dinner that night and kept glancing around, expecting to see Narcissa storming their way. But she remained deeply engaged in conversation with Lucius Malfoy, Gallus Goyle, and a splotchy-faced boy Sirius identified as Verges Crabbe.

After dinner, James and Sirius returned to the common room to write their Potions essay before heading to McGonagall's office. She set them to filing papers at once, and hovered over them the whole time, monitoring their progress and preventing any conversation that might have made the evening pass more quickly. When they left two hours later, they were stiff and tired… but not stiff enough or tired enough to deter them from future pranks.

The next days passed in relative peace, and James began to relax. Maybe Narcissa wasn't looking for revenge, after all. By Tuesday of the following week, he'd forgotten all about his anxiety. But Narcissa hadn't given up revenge; she had merely been biding her time, and by Thursday, she was ready.

During Transfiguration, they struggled to turn matches into needles. James managed to get his nearly all the way transfigured before the end of class, although they still had a tendency to burst into flame when struck against the edge of the desk. When Sirius discovered this, he abandoned his own, slightly less successful, attempts in order to amuse himself with James' creations. McGonagall didn't find the trick quite so funny and had ordered the pair to collect the half-transfigured, scorched matches at the end of the lesson.

The rest of the class left while they gathered the matches, except for Remus, who remained at his desk, scribbling something on a piece of parchment and glancing at them occasionally.

"What's with him?" Sirius muttered as they left the classroom.

James shrugged. "Dunno. He's a strange one."

They rounded the corner.

"_Petrificus_ _Totalus_!"

A jolt ran through James' body, and he felt himself go rigid, limbs snapping together. He lost his balance and toppled, landing hard on the stone floor. The breath rushed from his lungs.

"James!" Sirius cried. James saw him reach for his wand, but before he could point it at the attacker, whoever it was shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" A jet of red light lanced through the air and Sirius' wand went flying.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the wayward Black." Narcissa strode forward, arms crossed, a tight smile on her face. Lucius Malfoy stood behind his girlfriend, wand raised and pointed at Sirius.

Lucius spared a glance for James. "What should we do with _him_?"

Narcissa glanced coldly over her shoulder and then returned her steely gaze to Sirius. "What do I care? I only want to talk to my _dear_ little cousin."

Lucius stared at James a moment longer, and James thought the older boy was going to hex him. But eventually, Lucius joined Narcissa in towering over Sirius.

"What do you want?" Sirius snarled, returning the Slytherins' glares with a defiant one of his own. He crossed his arms and titled his chin upward, and though he was loathe to admit it, James saw a certain resemblance between the cousins. Sirius' eyes strayed to his wand lying ten feet away. "Didn't you like your Howlers?"

"_Flipendo_!" Lucius flicked his wand, and a flash of orange light slammed into Sirius, sending him skidding backward into the wall.

Hands on her hips, Narcissa strode forward. "Don't you care about our family at all?" Her voice was sharp, but Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Why should I?"

"What has any of us ever done to you?" she demanded. Sirius opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "That _you_ didn't bring on yourself?"

Sirius snapped his mouth shut, looking surly. James could see the frustration churning under the surface.

"You just don't get it, do you? When you act like this, it doesn't just reflect on you. When people see you, they see _all_ of us, and they judge us by what you do." Her eyes flicked to James. "And who you associate with."

"Is that why you told my mother about the Sorting?" Sirius was seething, glaring up at Narcissa. "You didn't like my new friends?"

An angry red flush bloomed on Narcissa's cheeks. "She deserved to hear it from family," she said, voice a low growl. "And since you obviously weren't going to come clean, I—"

"Come clean?" Sirius cried, taking a step forward. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

Lucius Malfoy raised his wand, pressing it against Sirius' chest, but Sirius didn't back down. Lucius sneered. "Haven't done anything wrong? You got yourself Sorted into _Gryffindor_."

The disgust was plain in Lucius' voice, and James bristled, wishing he could speak up. But Sirius spoke for him: "Better Gryffindor than slimy old Slytherin."

Lucius' lips curled, but it was Narcissa who spoke, raising a finger a hair's breadth from Sirius' nose. "It's too late to undo the Sorting now."

"Like I _would_," Sirius muttered, gray eyes burning.

"But that doesn't mean you have to disgrace our family with childish pranks and blood-traitor friends."

Sirius' hand twitched. "I'll do whatever I damn well feel like."

Narcissa ignored him. "Find a better crowd, Sirius. Next time you won't get off with just a Howler."

"Is that a threat?"

Narcissa smiled coldly. "Take it however you like." Spinning on her heel, she strode away. When she passed James, she slowed. "Stay away from my family, Potter, if you know what's good for you." She tossed her hair. "Come on, Lucius."

"One moment," Lucius said with a cruel smile. "I want to make sure he's learned his lesson."

"Whatever."

As Narcissa disappeared around the corner, Lucius raised his wand. "_Fodio_!" White light erupted from the tip, and Sirius dropped to the ground with a grunt, clutching his stomach. Another flash of light elicited a soft cry of pain, and Lucius smiled. James struggled to move, but the spell Malfoy had hit him with held him fast.

"This is nothing," the prefect hissed, leaning over Sirius. His white-blond hair fell over his eyes, and his lips parted in a sadistic grin. "I can do so much worse. And I will, if you don't start acting like a proper pureblood."

"What do you care, Malfoy?" Sirius spoke through clenched teeth, pushing himself up off the floor.

Another flash made Sirius curl in on himself and cringe against the wall.

"Unlike you," Lucius said, "I care about honor and blood ties. Blacks and Malfoys have a long history together, you know. We have always been among the elite of the wizarding world. Don't think I'll let a snotty little brat like you change that." He raised his wand, but before he could hex Sirius again, they heard voices coming their way. Lucius shot a dark look down the hallway before he turned and disappeared in the other direction.

When Lucius had left, Sirius moaned faintly, sagging against the wall, sweat shining on his forehead. James' heart pounded. Was Sirius alright? What had Malfoy done to him? James wished he could move, go and help his friend, but his body refused to respond to his commands, and all he could to was stare at Sirius' crumpled form and listen to the voices growing closer.

"But Professor, it's less than a week away!"

James' heart leapt – a professor! He'd never thought he would be happy to hear a professor coming his way, but at the moment, that one word sent relief thundering through him.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Lupin, but I assure you, the Headmaster has arranged everything."

It was McGonagall, and Remus was with her. James' relief faded somewhat. Of all the professors, it just _had_ to be the strictest one in the whole school. If he got detention for this…

James heard Remus sigh. "I know… I just—" Remus cut off with a gasp and the footsteps faltered, then started again at a run.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall cried, coming into James' line of sight. "Mr. Black!"

"Professor McGonagall." Remus' voice trembled, and James could see his ashen face out of the corner of his eye. "What's happened to them?"

McGonagall didn't answer immediately, but knelt beside James and placed her hand on his forehead. Her eyes closed for a moment, and some of the tension went out of her shoulders. "He's been hit by Full Body-Bind Curse," she said to Remus. "Simple enough to remedy. _Rennervate_."

Instantly, James' body relaxed and he was able to sit up, shaking his head. McGonagall peered at him critically while Remus stood nearby, looking on nervously.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked in a surprisingly gentle voice. James nodded, twisting to look at Sirius, who was struggling to his feet. McGonagall stood and hurried to his side, grabbing his arm to support him. Her lips pressed together into a thin line. "_Finite_."

Sirius let out a rush of air and straightened, face pinched. James scrambled to his feet and sidled up beside Sirius, searching his face for signs of lingering pain. Sirius managed a wan smile and shook off McGonagall's supportive grip.

"Who did this to you?" she asked.

James opened his mouth, but Sirius was quicker: "Nobody."

Frowning, James snapped his mouth shut and stared at Sirius, who shot him a look that clearly told him to keep quiet.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Well you certainly didn't do this to yourselves."

"Says who?" Sirius crossed his arms, giving McGonagall the same defiant stare he'd given Narcissa.

"These spells are far beyond your current abilities. Besides which, Mr. Potter doesn't even have his wand out, and yours, Mr. Black – _Accio_ – is lying much too far away to be of any use to you." As she spoke, the wand flew to her hand, and she caught it deftly.

Sirius clenched his jaw. "Maybe it was accidental magic."

With a delicate lift of her eyebrow, McGonagall handed Sirius his wand. "Remarkably focused for accidental magic, don't you think?"

Sirius didn't respond as he shoved his wand into his pocket.

"Can we go?" James asked, frowning at Sirius.

"I really wish you would tell me what happened." When neither boy responded, McGonagall sighed. "Very well. But if you change your mind, you know where my office is. Go get some rest, Mr. Black. Nasty work, that Stinging Hex." She turned. "Come along, Mr. Lupin."

She strode down the hall, Remus following her, but he twisted to glance back at James and Sirius just before he and McGonagall rounded the corner.

When they were alone once more, James turned to Sirius. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"Trust me, it's better she doesn't know. This is between me and Cissy and that arse she calls a boyfriend."

James scowled, crossing his arms. "And me."

A guilty look crossed Sirius' face, and he scuffed his foot along the floor. "I'm such an idiot. I should've known she'd do something like this." He hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I understand if you don't want to go on being friends."

"What would I want that for?"

Sirius flicked a look his way, but quickly dropped his gaze. "You heard them. Next time, it'll be a lot worse. You don't need to get caught up in my ruddy family and all that."

Snorting, James reached out and smacked the back of Sirius' head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sirius demanded, rubbing his head.

James smirked. "You're a right git, you know that? We're best mates. I'm not letting a couple of Slytherins change that. Let them squawk all they want. We'll pay them back double, whatever they try."

Sirius looked doubtful, but James met his gaze resolutely, and slowly, Sirius grinned. "Alright. Yeah! We're Gryffindors, after all! Who're we to back down from a fight?"

* * *

**A/N: So James and Sirius have had an eventful first week of term, but what was Peter doing during all this? Find out in chapter one of _Wormtail's Story_ - "The First Choice"  
**


	7. Flying Lessons

**Chapter 7: Flying Lessons**

At the end of lessons that week, the first year Gryffindors returned to their common room to see a notice posted informing them that flying lessons would begin Monday, September fourteenth, after History of Magic. James, of course, already knew perfectly well how to fly, but he figured that only meant the lesson would be easy, and so he didn't protest.

And James was more than ready to hop on a broom by the end of History of Magic. Sirius yawned as Professor Binns dismissed them ("You'd think having a ghost for a professor would be _interesting_!"), and they joined the herd of first years making their way down to the lawns where flying lessons would take place. The last few Ravenclaw first years hurried over from the greenhouses, and the students gathered in clumps around two rows of brooms, thirty or so in total.

A woman in short black robes with spiky gray hair stood between the rows of brooms, surveying the students with hawk-like yellow eyes.

"Alright, students," she said when they had all arrived. "My name is Madam Hooch, and I will be instructing you in the art of flying."

A Ravenclaw with wavy blond hair raised his hand. "Excuse me, Madam Hooch. I myself have read a number of books about brooms and flying. If you need any help with—"

One of the other Ravenclaws, a frizzy-haired girl named Thalia Overmann, scoffed. "Aren't you a muggle-born? What would _you_ know about flying?"

Madam Hooch ignored Thalia's muttered questions and smiled patiently. "That's very kind, Mr.… Lockhart, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am. Gilderoy Lockhart."

Madam Hooch smiled. "That's very kind. But you can't learn to fly a broom from a book, I'm afraid. And in my experience, even students who grew up with brooms find they have very much yet to learn." Gilderoy looked ready to protest, but Madam Hooch swiftly moved on. "Now, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand beside a broom."

James and Sirius chose two brooms as far from Gilderoy Lockhart as they could.

"Look at him!" Sirius whispered, nodding to where the eager Ravenclaw stood, straddling the broom nearest Madam Hooch. She patiently asked him to step to one side of the broom, but he insisted he knew what he was doing. "Prat."

James rolled his eyes. "I hope he falls. So, you ever flown before?"

Sirius shook his head. "Always wanted to, but I live in London, so there's not much room to fly without muggles seeing you. Besides, my parents think brooms are beneath them." He gave a wry smile. "Old-fashioned and crude, they say - except where Quidditch is concerned, of course. Travel by broom is even worse than Flooing, and you should hear my parents complain about the soot that gets on their robes! No, they prefer Side-Along Apparition, or Portkeys for longer trips. But you've flown before, I take it?"

"Yeah, loads," James said. "My dad says I'm pretty good, but my mum keeps saying I'm going to kill myself one of these days." He laughed. "She's just overprotective, though."

"Alright," Madam Hooch said tightly. James glanced down the row to see Gilderoy standing _beside_ the broom, finally. "Now, hold your hand over your broom and say 'up.'"

"Up!"

James' broom flew into his hand, but it was one of the few that did. Frank Longbottom succeeded, although he'd called it with too much force, and it lifted him a few inches off the ground before he managed to get it under control. Another Gryffindor, Alice Howard, succeeded as well, and beamed excitedly as she stared at the broom in her hand. A few Ravenclaws also held brooms now – Kingsley Shacklebolt, Margaret Thurgood, and, surprisingly, Gilderoy Lockhart.

The rest of the class tried again, and one by one, brooms rose into the air. Sirius' wobbled a bit on his first two attempts and flew up on his third. The other Gryffindor boys struggled more; Remus Lupin looked pale and shaky as his broom lifted on his sixth try. Peter Pettigrew's broom leaped up a moment later, but Alexander Thorne needed help from Frank before he managed.

Across the way, Gilderoy had begun calling out instructions – "More force, Lana!" "You've got to curl your fingers more, Ed." "No, no. You're saying it wrong!"

"I know how to say _up_, Gilderoy!" Chris Stebbins snapped, glaring at his motionless broom. "UP!"

The broom sprang off the ground, and Gilderoy grinned. "You see? Now you've got it!"

Chris Stebbins looked ready to clobber Gilderoy with his broom, but Madam Hooch shot him a warning look from across the aisle, where she stood coaching Lily Evans, whose face burned as she shouted at her stubborn broom. Madam Hooch said something James couldn't hear, and Lily nodded, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes and stood still for a moment, listening to Madam Hooch's continued instructions before she said, firmly, "Up."

The broom hit her palm with a smack, and Lily gave a start, gaping at the broom, a smile growing on her face. Madam Hooch laughed and congratulated her, then turned to survey the rest of the class.

"Excellent. It seems everyone has called their broom." She clapped her hands together. "Now, everyone straddle your broom, but keep both feet planted on the ground." The class did as she said, although many of them looked uncomfortable sitting on something that floated of its own accord. Remus looked even more uncomfortable than most, and he kept wiping sweaty palms on his robes and licking his lips as he glanced around at the other students. James grinned. Remus would be fine once he was in the air. Flying wasn't nearly as nerve-wracking as everyone made it out to be.

After checking to ensure everyone had good form, Madam Hooch mounted her own broom and hovered in the middle of the class. "When I blow my whistle, I want you all to kick off – hard. Don't be shy about it. Ready?"

The whistle sounded, and James kicked off, zooming up into open air. Kingsley Shacklebolt joined him above the chaos of the other students.

James grinned at the dark-skinned boy. "You look like you know what you're doing."

"My parents taught me a little about flying."

"Mine, too," James said.

"I'm Kingsley, by the way. I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"James."

They flew in lazy circles as the students below wobbled and dipped, narrowly avoiding collisions. Few of them rose more than five feet off the ground. Madam Hooch wove through the chaos, calling out bits of advice and demonstrating proper grip and posture. Gilderoy did the same, although from the looks on the other students' faces, his tips were somewhat less helpful than Madam Hooch's.

After a few minutes, Sirius broke away from the crowd, and James flew down to join him. Sirius gripped the broom tightly, smiling nervously and casting frequent glances at the ground rushing by underneath.

"Looking good, mate!" James called, drawing even with him.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked. "I feel like I'm gonna fall."

"You won't. Just relax. Quit staring at the ground."

Sirius shifted his grip on his broom and tilted his head up, although his eyes still darted downward every few seconds.

James laughed. "That's _better_, I guess. Follow me!" He eased his broom into a banking turn, and Sirius followed with less finesse, wobbling and jerking until they straightened out. James led Sirius through a series of shallow climbs, lazy dives, and increasingly sharp turns. Sirius followed without protest, although he entered the dives with visible anxiety.

Soon enough, though, he began to relax, pushing his broom faster to keep up with James and turning his eyes to the sky and the Forbidden Forest spreading out in the distance. Madam Hooch had set up boundary charms around the practice field to keep students from straying too far, so they couldn't do anything truly exciting, but they made the most of the space they had.

"My parents are mad!" Sirius said with a laugh as they pulled up ten minutes later and hovered twenty feet off the ground. "This is loads more fun than apparating!"

More than half the class now roamed around the field on their brooms, flying in pairs or trios, some laughing and talking, others intent on not crashing. Frank, Peter, and Alexander flew low, slow figure eights in one corner, Frank calling out encouragement to the other two, who still looked uncertain. Madam Hooch continued working with the few pale students lingering near the ground, a group that included Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, and Chris Stebbins. Lily had gone white as a sheet, and Remus looked faintly sick, but Chris was beginning to warm to the idea of being off the ground, and he soon flew off.

Madam Hooch instructed the remaining students to lean back so their broom would rise, and they did so, albeit reluctantly. They flew jerkily, clutching their broomsticks too tightly to allow for the subtle control brooms required.

As James looked on, Gilderoy Lockhart swooped down, pulling out of his dive a bit too sharply and nearly bucking himself off.

"You've just got to relax," Gilderoy said in a voice that carried to where James and Sirius hovered. "Let the broom do the work. Like this!" He pulled away, corkscrewing through the air so that several other students had to swerve to avoid being hit.

James could see that Madam Hooch was working very hard not to show her irritation as she watched Gilderoy's flight. "Slow down, Mr. Lockhart! Somebody's going to get hurt if you keep flying like that!"

Gilderoy was by this time too far away to hear, or else he chose to ignore her warning, because when he came out of his spin, he launched into a loop-de-loop and nearly slammed into the ground. James rolled his eyes.

"Idiot," Sirius said.

Madam Hooch sighed.

"I'll talk to him, Madam Hooch," Kingsley said, frowning in disapproval.

"Thank you, Mr. Shacklebolt." She turned back to the students still clustered around her as Kingsley shot away. "Mr. Lupin, come up here. A little higher. That's it. We're going to fly to that tree and back, okay? I'll be right beside you."

Remus nodded, swallowing. He ran a hand across his brow.

"Are you okay, Mr. Lupin? You look a bit green."

"'m fine," Remus muttered, angling his broom toward the tree Madam Hooch had indicated.

"Lean back a bit," Madam Hooch instructed. "You're losing altitude… There you go… Careful now, don't want to roll over. Use your legs to stabilize your broom… A little faster. Now you're getting it."

"He looks so nervous," James said, watching curiously.

Sirius shrugged. "Can't blame him. It's freaky!" His eyes slid to James, and he smirked. "Not that you'd understand, being born on a broom and all."

"I was not!" James laughed. "And it's _not_ that bad!"

"Look out!"

James turned at Kingsley's shout and saw Gilderoy careening toward him in a tight spiral. Leaning hard to the left, James dove out of Gilderoy's path just as the other boy soared overhead, Kingsley close behind and shouting at Gilderoy to slow down.

"Oh, no!" James regained his balance and looking where Gilderoy was headed. "Remus! Madam Hooch!"

He shot forward, drawing the attention of the other students, who turned and gasped. Madam Hooch and Remus turned as well, but it was too late. Gilderoy careened into Remus, knocking him off his broom, and the two boys tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and robes.

"Everyone to the ground!" Madam Hooch yelled, touching down. Kingsley was right behind her, and James leapt from his broom when he was still three feet off the ground. He ran after Madam Hooch and Kingsley toward Remus and Gilderoy.

"I'm fine!" Gilderoy cried, leaping to his feet and smoothing his hair, his robes rumpled and flecked with dirt and grass. "Nothing to worry about!"

Madam Hooch gave him a quick, appraising look before she knelt beside Remus, who lay on his side, curled around his left arm, not making a sound though his face was gray with pain.

"Oh my god!" Lily maneuvered her broom close to the ground with some difficulty and toppled off, scrambling to Remus' side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" He smiled, but it quickly turned to a grimace. "I think it's broken."

Madam Hooch gripped Remus' shoulder as he tried to sit up. "Lie still. You may have more than a simple broken arm, after a fall like that." She kept her voice neutral and her eyes on Remus as she spoke, but James thought she sounded like she wanted to say more, and he glared at Gilderoy. He wasn't the only one.

Gilderoy ignored the venomous looks coming from all of the Gryffindors (and nearly all the Ravenclaws) and stepped up beside Madam Hooch. "Shall I take him to the hospital wing, Madam Hooch?"

"No!" Madam Hooch spoke sharply, shifting her body to keep Gilderoy away from Remus, but she quickly reigned in her alarm. "No. I'll take him. You… Why don't you go find a professor and ask them to come mind the class until I get back?"

"Of course!" Gilderoy sprinted toward the castle, robes streaming behind him.

When he was gone, Madam Hooch breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. She summoned a stretcher and carefully lifted Remus onto it. "The rest of you, stay on the ground until I get back – and for Merlin's sake, someone take Mr. Lockhart's broom away from him!"

She vanished as quickly as Gilderoy, leaving the training field in stunned silence. Eventually, the students began to talk amongst themselves, expressing concern for Remus and annoyance with Gilderoy, and gradually spreading out and sitting down to enjoy the sunshine and free time.

James had other things to keep him busy: while most of the students had dismounted to get a closer look at Remus' injury, some of the more nervous fliers remained in the air. James and Kingsley coached them down or, in some cases and with help from Frank and Sirius, caught them when they fell.

Eventually, Gilderoy returned with the Arithmancy professor, Septima Vector, a slight witch in her thirties with long dark hair and scarlet robes. Despite Gilderoy's assurances that Madam Hooch had told him they could go on flying, Professor Vector kept everyone on the ground. No one but Gilderoy put up a fuss about it; they were all either too shaken by Remus' injury or too smart to take to the sky with Gilderoy again. Even when Madam Hooch returned and ordered them back into the sky, they did so with much less enthusiasm than before.


	8. Tricks and Treasures

**Chapter 8: Tricks and Treasures**

After his accident during flying lessons, Remus Lupin had to spend the night in the hospital wing. McGonagall assured the other first years it was nothing to worry about – a few broken bones, some cuts and bruises, but nothing Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, couldn't fix.

"The best thing for Mr. Lupin right now is that he gets some rest," McGonagall told them after dinner that night when Frank Longbottom asked if he could go visit Remus. "I will see how he's feeling in the morning and let you know, but for now, I ask that you let him be."

She left them to finish their homework, but none of them felt much like studying. Besides, they had all finished their Charms homework already, or nearly so, and nothing else was due the next day.

So the five first year boys climbed the stairs to their dorm.

"Can you believe that git Gilderoy?" James said as he flopped on his bed.

Sirius punched his pillow. "_He_ should be the one in the Hospital Wing right now."

"Poor Remus," Peter Pettigrew murmured, glancing to the empty bed beside him.

James sat in silence as a sudden idea occurred to him. "You know…" he said slowly. "It really isn't fair, Remus having to spend the night in the Hospital Wing while Gilderoy gets off scot-free."

"You aren't thinking about doing anything stupid, are you?" Frank asked, frowning.

"He probably is," Sirius said, but he leaned forward on his bed with a grin. "So what's the plan?"

"Oh, you know." James waved his hand vaguely. "Just play a little trick on him."

Frank was already shaking his head. "I'm not going to hex anyone, if that's what you're thinking."

"Of course not! Dear ol' Gildy'll do most of the work for us. No one will know we had anything to do with it."

Though Frank still looked dubious, Alexander Thorne sat up a little straighter, eyes shining. "We?"

James winked at him. "This _is_ for Remus, after all. I figure we all have equal right to take part. If you want to."

"Yeah!" Alexander cried. "Of course I want to."

Sirius smirked. "You know I'm in."

Across the room, Peter squirmed. "You're _sure_ we won't get caught?"

James rolled his eyes. "Positive."

"A-alright then. I guess I'll help out."

All four boys turned expectantly to Frank, who worried his lip. "We won't be breaking any school rules, will we?"

"_We_ won't, no," James said with a grin.

Frank narrowed his eyes. "And no one will get hurt?"

"Just Gilderoy's ego."

At that, Frank had to chuckle. "Yeah, okay. What do we have to do?"

-.-.-

They woke early the next morning and made their way down to the Entrance Hall before any of the other students arrived. James hid himself in the corner behind a statue of a former Headmaster while Frank and Peter scanned the stairwell for Gilderoy Lockhart's scrawny frame. Sirius and Alexander, meanwhile, sat down at the Gryffindor table, glancing occasionally at the head table and out into the Entrance Hall. For this part of the plan, James, Sirius, and Alexander just had to make sure prefects and professors didn't get suspicious.

Before long, James' legs began to cramp from crouching so long in his hiding spot, but he had to stay out of sight. The Gryffindor boys had agreed to make Gilderoy think he was coming up with the idea all on his own – it made for better payback, they thought, and made them less likely to get in trouble. They didn't know whether Gilderoy Lockhart was a snitch, but they didn't want to take any chances.

And that meant that no one person could play too large a role. James would step in if he had to, but only if things got really bad; he still had a part to play that afternoon. He hoped Frank and Peter were up to this. To be honest, James didn't know what kind of pranksters any of the other boys would make. Peter seemed nervous, but Frank (despite his reservations) stood with a relaxed posture, and James figured he might be able to make up for any slips Peter made.

If not, James would step in. It would mean he had more of a chance of being suspected, but the prank had been James' idea to begin with, so he figured it was only fair. And besides, if they botched this too badly, they could always call off the prank and think up something else.

Students began to arrive after a few minutes, trickling mostly in pairs and small groups of early risers, and then in larger packs as the rest of the student body roused themselves.

When Gilderoy appeared at the top of the stairs, Peter and Frank perked up slightly and got into position. They would enter the Great Hall just behind Gilderoy so he was sure to overhear their conversation.

James spotted McGonagall heading their way from inside the Great Hall, and he slipped out of his hiding place to intercept her. But Sirius was already there, and McGonagall stopped to talk to him.

Frank and Peter joined the stream of students seamlessly, James a few feet behind them.

"Come on, it used to belong to a Headmaster!" Frank said. "Whoever finds it'll be famous."

Gilderoy's pace slowed, head angling slightly toward the pair of Gryffindors behind him. James smiled. For all his protests, Frank was a natural prankster. He knew just how to get Gilderoy's attention, and he didn't waste any time beating around the bush.

Peter wrung his hands together. "Are you sure? I-I mean, how do you know it's real?" His voice came out a bit too loud, James thought, but it could've been worse.

"You heard Cobin. There are plenty of records. Gold, and jewels, and all sorts of artifacts, hidden somewhere in Hogwarts. It's just a matter of finding them!"

Frank and Peter split off toward the Gryffindor table, and James saw Gilderoy staring after them, a distant, dreamy look on his face. _Perfect_.

McGonagall was still talking to Sirius, who seemed to be arguing emphatically about something or other, and James could tell it was starting to wear on McGonagall's patience. As James took his seat beside Frank, McGonagall ended the conversation and slipped away. Sirius turned and hurried back to his seat, snickering.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Great," James said, nudging Frank with a grin. "Fame _and_ riches? He ate it up!"

Peter let out a shaky breath and reached for a doughnut. "I'm just glad it's over."

"Whatsa matter, Pete?" Sirius teased. "Don't like tricking arrogant gits?"

Peter flushed and ducked his head, but the other boys just laughed.

Alexander turned to Sirius. "So what'd you do to get McGonagall so worked up?"

"Nothing, really." Sirius shrugged. "I just wanted to know if I could go visit Remus before class. And I wouldn't take no for an answer. She said we'll see him in Charms, so I should just be patient and wait an hour."

"You, patient?" James feigned shock. "Obviously she doesn't know you very well."

"Shut up!"

James snickered. "So, you're up, Alex."

"Right." Alexander shoved the rest of his toast into his mouth and stood up, grabbing his bag. "I'll see you in Charms."

"Don't forget," Sirius called after him. "The Training Grounds Tower."

Alexander flashed him a thumbs up and hurried away. His job was to find Cobin and convince him to help them out. James had wanted to sneak out the night before to do it, but Frank had reminded him that they weren't going to break any rules, and so James had reluctantly agreed to put it off until the first part of their plan succeeded. It would be up to Lockhart to find the portrait and figure out where the supposed treasure was hidden.

"That just leaves us, mate," James said to Sirius.

Sirius nodded. "Whenever you're ready."

They waited a quarter hour, eating and talking about mundane things like classes and homework, before James and Sirius excused themselves to the Entrance Hall. The first year Ravenclaws had a free period after breakfast, and James just hoped Gilderoy wouldn't linger too long in the Great Hall. If they were late to class today, Flitwick might become suspicious, and while they could wait for later in the day to stage this conversation, James really, _really_ wanted to witness the results.

Students began to leave for class, and James and Sirius lurked in the corner, searching for Gilderoy. When they saw him, James turned to Sirius.

"Have you talked to Cobin?"

Gilderoy stopped walking. The girl behind him stumbled to a stop as well, huffing indignantly before continuing on her way. James and Sirius pretended not to notice.

"Shh!" Sirius hissed. "Not so loud."

Gilderoy broke away from the crowd, drifting toward them in a manner he no doubt intended to be nonchalant.

"But he knows! He knows where the treasure is!"

"Yes, I know! I talked to him, alright? But there's no way we can get to it. And if you keep yapping about it, someone else will find it first!"

James put on a look of indignation. "We can _too_ get to it!"

With a snort, Sirius crossed his arms. "Maybe if we were better fliers. I mean, come on! If a first year could make it up there on his own, they might as well make him Quidditch captain right then and there! Besides, we aren't even allowed brooms!"

"So what? Anyone can use the school brooms. They don't even lock them up, except at night." This was only partly true, James knew. They didn't lock the brooms up, but students had to ask Madam Hooch for permission, and first years weren't allowed to use them until they finished flying lessons in December. He hoped Gilderoy wouldn't bother to check.

"Look," James continued. "I say we check it out, at least. We've got a free period after lunch."

"I dunno…" Sirius glanced around the Entrance Hall and tensed, nudging James as though he'd just noticed Gilderoy standing there. "What do you want?"

Gilderoy held up his hands, shaking his head. "Oh nothing, nothing. Just on my way to class." He spun and sprinted up the stairs, and James and Sirius grinned.

"Well that went well," Sirius said.

James nodded, joining the stream of students leaving the Great Hall. "Now let's just hope he does something about it."

-.-.-

They reached the third floor Charms corridor with five minutes to spare and hurried to their classroom, where they found the rest of the Gryffindor first years crowding around a pale, tired-looking Remus while Lily Evans tried to shoo them off. The boy looked ready to collapse, and smiled wanly as the other students asked if he was alright. He murmured that he was and shot a longing glance toward his desk, tugging at the neck of his robes, where he'd left his shirt unbuttoned and foregone his tie altogether. Crisp white bandages peeked through his fingers.

"Alright!" Sirius whispered as they joined the crowd of students around Remus. "He won't miss it!"

"Come on, guys," Lily said, tugging the students away from Remus. "Let him breathe!"

Remus smiled at her, but the Gryffindors stayed put, asking Remus what had happened and if he would ever fly again and whether he thought Gilderoy Lockhart ought to be shipped home after crashing into him like that. Remus ignored the first question, and mumbled that he supposed he might like to give flying another go. "And I can't be too mad at Gilderoy," he added, staring at his feet. "It was just an accident."

"Just an accident caused by a pompous twat," James said loudly, causing Remus to look up in surprise. James grinned. "I mean, look at you! You're half dead!" He tutted like Professor McGonagall and gave the gathered students a stern look. "Move along now. You, too, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Catchlove. Give the boy some space."

Chuckling, the students dispersed, and Remus glanced at James.

"Thanks," he muttered.

James shrugged and stepped past Remus toward his desk. As he passed, he leaned over to whisper, "Keep your eyes on the windows today."

Remus twisted to frown at him, but James kept walking and dropped into his seat in the back row. Sirius, Frank, Peter, and Alexander gathered around him. They didn't say anything, but each glanced eagerly toward the windows at the front of the room where, if they were lucky, they would soon see Gilderoy Lockhart, mounted on a stolen broom and flying it right under a professor's nose.

Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw, soon arrived and began the lesson. Today they were working on the levitation charm, and so the whole class was given a feather to work with. Lily Evans was, predictably, the first to succeed, and it took her twenty minutes. Remus seemed out of sorts, and he accepted Lily's help gratefully when she offered.

In the back of the classroom, the five boys were too distracted watching for Gilderoy to make much headway with the charm, although Sirius eventually managed, and subsequently set to tickling James and, when James threatened to rip the feather in half, to battling James' feather, which bobbed ineffectually on the desk. Frank got his feather to scuttle about, and Alexander's twitched feebly, but Peter couldn't get the pronunciation right, despite Sirius' coaching.

Then, suddenly, they heard a thud on the window and at once, the whole class turned to see what was the matter.

Gilderoy hovered just outside the window. As he lifted a hand to rub his head, his broom dipped and banged against the window once more. Sirius nudged James excitedly, beaming. Turning, Flitwick caught sight of the boy and crossed to the window in a flash, waving his wand. The glass vanished, letting in a warm breeze.

"Good morning, Professor!" Gilderoy called cheerily, drifting away from the window.

"Mr. Lockhart! Mr. Lockhart, get in here this instant!"

"Yes, of course, Professor. Just one moment."

Flitwick levitated an empty desk over to the window and climbed up on it, reaching out for the broom handle. "Mr. Lockhart, come here, before you fall!"

"It's quite alright, Professor. I know what I'm doing." As Gilderoy spoke, Flitwick grabbed for the broom, and Gilderoy swerved aside, tilting dangerously and nearly losing his grip.

"Mr. Lockhart!"

Several of the students leaped up from their desks, shouting in alarm or watching in avid silence. James suspected he wasn't the only one who hoped Gilderoy would fall. Remus, however, hurried forward, joining Flitwick on the desk. The boy leaned out through the window and seized Gilderoy's broom.

Gilderoy jerked away, and would have dragged Remus out of the window, had Flitwick and several nearby students not grabbed his legs and hauled him back inside. Remus kept a firm grip on Gilderoy's broom, and as soon as Gilderoy cleared the window, Flitwick pulled him off the broom.

"Remus!" Lily cried, pulling him back to his desk, where he sunk down with a shaky sigh. "Are you alright? You could've fallen! Again!"

Remus ignored her and turned to look at James and his friends. His amber eyes narrowed.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Flitwick spluttered, replacing the glass in the window with a short swish of his wand. "No, don't say anything." He lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. "Come along, Mr. Lockhart, I think we need to have a little chat. The rest of you—" He turned to the class— "are free to go. Make sure you practice your levitation for next lesson. That is all."

The class remained silent as Flitwick escorted Gilderoy down the hall. A murmur of discussion started up when they had gone, students marveling at Gilderoy's idiocy, and slowly they began to file out. James stood and, together with his co-pranksters, walked toward the door. They were stopped just beyond by a voice.

"James."

James turned, along with the other four boys. Remus strode toward them, and James noticed for the first time that he walked with a slight limp. Had Gilderoy's reckless flying broken his leg, too? James scowled.

"What?"

Remus slowed, avoiding James' eyes. "What did you do?"

"What makes you think we did anything?" Sirius asked.

A glare flashed toward Sirius. "So it was all of you."

Behind James, Peter made a small, nervous noise. James crossed his arms and grinned. "_What_ was all of us?"

"Gilderoy," Remus said. "You're the reason he was flying out there."

"Remus," Sirius scolded. "You wound me!"

Remus didn't reply, but shifted his weight and glanced from one boy to another.

James rolled his eyes. "We didn't do anything _wrong_."

"Frank made sure of that," Sirius muttered.

"He could have died." Remus' voice sounded like a growl.

"He wouldn't have fallen much farther than you did," Alexander pointed out timidly. "The way the roof sticks out over there, it'd only be a few meters."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, and he wouldn't have a great bumbling oaf landing on top of him."

"We did it for you, Remus," Peter whispered, cowering behind Frank, who cleared his throat.

"We just thought he needed to be taken down a notch," Frank said. "He didn't even get a talking-to after the accident."

For a long moment, Remus stared at them, lips parted, eyes darting from one to the next. "For me?" he said at last. "Right, well do me a favor. Don't ever do anything 'for me' again."

With those words, Remus spun and walked back into the Charms classroom, where Lily stood, arms crossed, green eyes mere slits. She asked Remus something, but he shrugged her off and kept walking, and with one last glance at the other boys, Lily followed him.

A second later, James turned and walked away.

-.-.-

"You think he'd be a bit more grateful."

James glanced at Sirius, who kicked lazily at the stones along the base of the sixth floor central corridor. It was midnight, and they should have been in bed like the rest of their dormmates, but both boys found themselves restless after the excitement of the past two days.

It didn't help that Remus hadn't responded quite as well as they might have hoped. After the conversation in the Charms corridor, Remus had avoided the other boys for the rest of the day, choosing to spend his time with Lily until about an hour after dinner, at which point he retreated to the dormitory. James and Sirius headed up a few hours later to find the curtains drawn closed around Remus' bed.

James had lain on his bed listening to the others drift off, and he'd eventually given up on the sleep that was obviously a long way off. As soon as he stood, Sirius had appeared at his side, and the two had set out to explore the castle.

They hadn't broken curfew nearly as often as James had expected – only twice since the first night. The other nights Astronomy and homework left them too tired to bother, or older students sitting up in the common room prevented them from sneaking by unseen. Tonight, however, they made it out unchallenged and set off to find more secret passageways.

"I mean, Gilderoy had it coming," Sirius continued. "And no one got hurt or anything."

James shrugged and tapped the wall with the tip of a spear he had nicked from a suit of armor. "Don't let Lupin get to you. He's a stick-in-the-mud, just like Evans."

"Still, a thank you would be nice."

With a noncommittal grunt, James pushed open a nearby doorway. "Let's try in here."

Sirius left off kicking the wall and followed James into a dusty classroom. Sirius sneezed. "Looks like no one's used this room for ages."

James had to agree. Antique inkwells sat on the desks, dry, brittle quills lying forlorn beside them. Yellowed books and crumbled parchment lined the shelves along the back wall, and specimen bottles sat on windowsills, their contents shriveled and rotting. An inch of dust covered it all. James walked to the professor's desk, running his finger along the wood.

"There's nothing here, mate," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose. "And it smells like our house elf's nest."

Pulling open the desk drawers, James raised an eyebrow. "Your house elf has a nest?"

"Yeah. He's as mad as my family. It's a pretty good fit, really."

James laughed and dug through the drawer. More old quills crumbled at his touch, and leathery parchment crackled as he pushed it aside. He found a set of empty specimen bottles in another drawer, and an odd assortment of gobstones in yet another. As he reached for the next drawer, though, he felt a strange protrusion on the underside.

"Huh."

"What?" Sirius asked, wiping the dust off a desk and perching atop it.

James didn't answer at first, but bent over to look at the bottom of the drawer. "Probably just old gum or something… _Lumos_." The light illuminated the wood, and James saw that it was actually a small wooden knob with something etched on it. "Or _not_." A layer of grime covered the symbol etched into the knob, and James rubbed at it with his thumb, frowning.

_Click_.

The ground under James' feet vanished, and he dropped, yelling. He found himself on some sort of slide that twisted and turned, plunging steeply through the darkness. The only light came from James' wand, which he clenched tightly in his right hand while using his other limbs to try to slow his descent.

But the slide was far too slick, and he slid ever faster. Down, down he went, as the seconds ticked by. The initial burst of terror wore off after a bit, and James' shout of panic turned into an adrenaline-fueled laugh.

At last, the slide began to level out, slowing his descent, and James was spat out into a dark, damp corridor lit by flickering green torches. James tumbled and lay still, gasping for breath, laughing as his blood sang in his ears. The hallway remained silent until a whoop echoed from somewhere overhead. A moment later, Sirius shot out of a hole in the wall that vanished behind him.

"You alright?" James asked, scrambling to his feet.

Sirius laughed. "Alright? That was bloody brilliant! Let's go again."

"We have to find our way back first. Where d'you suppose we are?"

Glancing around, Sirius pursed his lips. "Dungeons, I'd guess. We definitely fell far enough. Cold enough, too."

James nodded. "How do we get back upstairs?"

"That way, maybe?" Sirius pointed to the right, and they took off that way, creeping down the corridor. "You know," Sirius said suddenly. "While we're down here, we may as well check out that vault thing Cobin told us about."

A moment passed before James remembered what Sirius was talking about. The week before, Cobin had told the two boys about a sealed vault he'd found in the dungeons. The portrait suspected it might hold the Lost Treasure of Hogwarts, but he had no way to get inside. He'd asked James and Sirius to check it out, but they hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"Sure," James said. "We can at least look for it."

They kept walking, for lack of a better plan, and peered around for something familiar. Cobin had said the vault was located at the end of an unused corridor that could be reached through the Entrance Dungeon. Of course, the only way James knew to get to the Entrance Dungeon was through a passage near the dungeon where they had Potions. And they were certainly nowhere near _there_.

After five minutes of walking, they happened up on a staircase that took them back up to the ground floor. But to their dismay, they emerged just around the corner from Filch's office and, for once, Filch seemed not to be roaming the castle looking for students out of bed. Mrs. Norris hissed in the darkness and Filch's chair squeaked as he stood and began to shuffle toward them.

James and Sirius turned and bolted the other way, away from Filch and away from the corridor that would take them back to the Entrance Hall, where the staircase to the Potions corridor was.

But they didn't have time to think about that; they ran down the long, straight hallway, past a handful of doors. After trying the first two and finding them locked, they gave up on hiding in a classroom. Behind them, Mrs. Norris rounded the corner and spotted them, yowling. Filch's footsteps sped up.

"This way!" James hissed, shoving Sirius toward a doorway that opened onto the courtyard.

They spilled out onto the smooth flagstones. The night was cool and clear; the moon had just begun to wane and illuminated the courtyard with soft yellow light. James and Sirius didn't stop to admire the view, but sprinted for the door across the way. Sirius swore as he slammed against it.

"Locked," he muttered.

James spun, searching. "There!"

He took off toward the East Tower, Sirius pounding after him. James reached for the doorknob and twisted, crossing his fingers. The door swung open.

James and Sirius darted in and closed the door behind them, then continued on down the hall at a sprint, skidding around corners until they reached the staircase to the Potions corridor and raced down so quickly they almost took a tumble. At the bottom, they paused momentarily, breathing heavily but smiling.

"Well, that was exciting," James said, wiping sweat from his face.

Sirius snorted. "Sure, exciting. We've _got_ to find a spell that'll unlock doors for us."

"Right, so library tomorrow, then?" James teased.

Though Sirius wrinkled his nose, he nodded. "If that's what it takes… We'll make it short, though."

Laughing, James started walking, leading the way down the corridor to the passage that led to the Entrance Dungeon. From there, they found the corridor Cobin had told them about and started walking. The dark, musty space felt close and dingy, and James had to light his wand to see the way.

The corridor twisted and looped, snaking deeper under the castle and growing damper and darker and quieter with every step. A few scattered portraits lined the walls, but most of the frames were empty. At length, the passage leveled out and ended abruptly at a towering steel door with no discernible handle or keyhole. Runes traced interesting patterns on the metal and glowed sickly green in the darkness.

Sirius drew in a long, slow breath. "Wow."

"Yeah." James knew now why Cobin thought there might be treasure behind this door. It radiated power like a wildfire radiated heat, making James' skin prickle under his robes. He took a step forward, reaching out for the smooth metal.

Sirius yanked him back. "Don't touch it!"

"Why not?" James flashed a cocky grin. "Scared?"

Hastily, Sirius released James and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Course not!"

James reached out again. As his fingers neared the door, the runes began to pulse, and James hesitated. But he shook away his hesitation and pressed his palm against the door. It felt cold as ice under his touch, but a wave of electricity rippled along the runes, leaping and crackling from one swirling line to another. James snatched his hand back, but an emerald spark snapped at his fingers, drawing a yelp of pain, and an invisible wave pushed him backward into Sirius.

"I told you," Sirius hissed. "You okay?"

James shook his stinging hand. "Fine."

"I don't think there's anything we can do right now."

With a sigh, James nodded. "We'll talk to Cobin tomorrow. See if he knows anything." He sent a lingering look at the door as he started back up the corridor, watching the way the runes pulsed, like the breathing of a great metal beast. He and Sirius held their lit wands before them and stumbled back to the Entrance Hall with heavy eyes.

"What's this then?"

James whirled and found himself face-to-face with Jasper Juniper, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. A short, dark man with a scraggly beard and a small, crooked cap, Professor Juniper stood clutching his wand, his black eyes shooting this way and that as he scanned the hall. His gaze drifted to the dungeon stairs.

"What were the two of you doing down in the dungeons, eh?" Professor Juniper asked, brow furrowing. "Not pulling another prank, were you?"

"No, of course not!" James said quickly.

"Oh?" Juniper's lips twitched. "Then what _were_ you doing?"

"Er…" James glanced to Sirius, who grimaced.

"Just… exploring," Sirius said.

Professor Juniper chuckled. "Exploring? Heh, can't really fault you for that." He put his wand away. "So, find anything interesting?"

James shot Sirius a startled look. Wasn't Professor Juniper going to give them a detention? "Er… well, not really. Just a dead end and a… locked door."

"Yes, well." Professor Juniper smiled knowingly. "There are a lot of those around here…" His voice trailed off as his gazed roamed the hall once more.

After a minute, Sirius cleared his throat.

Professor Juniper gave a start and looked back at the two boys. "Yes, right. Very good. Off to bed with you!"

James and Sirius complied without protest, hurrying to the Grand Staircase and up to the seventh floor landing, too relieved to have gotten off without punishment to explore Hogwarts any more that night.

* * *

**A/N: Remus' first full moon at Hogwarts has come and gone, but what _really _happened? Find out in chapter one of ****_Moony's Story_ - "September 1971: Gryffindor."**


	9. Keeping Secrets

**Chapter 9: Keeping Secrets**

It was two days before James and Sirius had a chance to talk to Cobin about the door, and he looked shocked by James' retelling of what had happened when he'd touched the door.

"A repulsion charm?" Cobin asked, cupping his chin in his frail, bony hand. "I should have guessed."

James shrugged. "Yeah, well, it takes a bit more than some cruddy lightning to knock me down."

And so, several times each week, James and Sirius would go on a jaunt about the castle after hours, discovering more passages all the time. More often than not, they found themselves down at the vault door, trying out the new spells they were learning.

They spent as little time as possible in the library, of course, only going once they'd exhausted the supply of interesting spells in their Charms and Transfiguration schoolbooks. Even when they ventured into the library, they did their research in a dim, secluded corner where no one would see them.

Over the coming weeks, they began to amass quite the assortment of fun and useful spells – _Alohomora_ (the unlocking charm), _Aguamenti_ (useful for any pranks requiring readily available water), _Expelliarmus_ (an absolute necessity if they were going to continue to defy Narcissa and Lucius). James kept a running list of spells they wanted to learn next, thinking ruefully that classes would be much less boring if the professors would skip straight to the good stuff.

While the weather remained fair, they took to practicing outside in the afternoons under a beech tree down by the lake. It was a quiet spot, far enough from both the castle and the water that few people bothered them while they worked.

From there, they had a clear view of the Whomping Willow, the large, twisted tree that sat on a ridge overlooking the lake. Professor Dumbledore had warned them about it at the start of term feast, and James now had an idea why. The branches of the Whomping Willow swayed and snapped, even when there was no breeze, and whenever any animal or student strayed too close, it would begin thrashing even more violently. Once, it had swatted an owl out of the air, and the animal had hooted in protest and continued its flight with something like a limp.

It was a dangerous tree; there was no doubt about that. One solid blow could very well break a bone.

So, naturally, James and Sirius went to investigate.

"Bet I could touch it."

James scoffed. "What?"

"The trunk." Sirius gestured to the Whomping Willow. "I bet I could touch it."

"Five sickles?"

"You're on." Grinning like James had all but handed him the money, Sirius strode forward, eyeing the swaying branches. Then he sprinted forward, ducking his head, reaching out for the trunk. He was still ten feet away when a branch caught him in the gut and flung him away.

He landed with a grunt beside James, who smirked. "Looks like I win. Pay up."

Standing, Sirius brushed himself off and ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down. "We never said it had to be first try."

Before James could answer, Sirius took off running once more, ducking and weaving in an effort to avoid the branches. The only effect it had was to make James break down laughing when a yelping Sirius tumbled end over end away from the tree.

"Oh, like you could do better!"

James puffed his chest out, shaking back his mess of black hair. "Course I can. Watch."

He moved forward cockily, an easy grin on his face. He watched the branches sweep and twist, then shot forward. He leaped over one branch and ducked another before he got a face-full of leaves and landed painfully beside Sirius.

"Not so easy, is it?"

James grumbled a reply, accepting the hand that Sirius offered. "Okay, new bet then. A galleon. Whoever touches the tree first gets it."

"You're on, Potter. That money's mine!"

"I don't think so, Black!"

Both boys turned at once and raced toward the tree.

-.-.-

By suppertime, neither boy had even made it within five feet of the trunk, and both were sore and stiff and covered in bruises. But they swore vengeance on the Whomping Willow and vowed to settle their wager another day.

It didn't take long for other students to notice the game. A few threatened to tell professors, but these kept quiet as the overwhelming majority wanted in on the wager. Others, like Frank Longbottom and Peter Pettigrew, refrained from braving the deadly boughs, but acted as lookouts to make sure professors, prefects, and prats (like Remus Lupin and Lily Evans) stayed away.

"How much is the wager?" asked a Hufflepuff named Rachel Goodwin. It was the fourteenth of October, and all the first years but one were sitting in Astronomy, observing the full moon. Remus Lupin had fallen ill that afternoon and turned in early.

James was glad. With Remus gone, the Slytherins huddled in their own corner, and Lily Evans distracted by her conversation with Severus Snape, there was no one to stop them from talking about the game.

"One galleon each," James whispered. "Winner take all."

A small crowd had gathered around James and Sirius, all wanting in on the game. James scribbled down a list of names of everyone joining in – already over a dozen – while Sirius kept his eyes up, nudging James occasionally when Professor Ruche glanced their way.

After class, James and Sirius plotted strategy with Alexander Thorne. Each wanted to win himself, of course, but they agreed that it should at least be a Gryffindor who took the prize. Peter listened with avid interest while Frank shook his head.

"You're going to get yourselves killed," warned Frank, but he smiled as he spoke.

They had to stop their plotting when they reached their dorm. The curtains were drawn shut around Remus' bed, and Frank glared at the other boys to keep quiet so they wouldn't wake up the sick boy.

When they woke up the next morning, Remus' bed was already empty, but they didn't see him in his usual seat at breakfast. James and Sirius didn't much care; they'd just realized that Halloween was hardly two weeks away.

"We've got to do something," Sirius said between bites of egg. "Something big."

James nodded. "But what?"

"Prank the Slytherins!"

"You call that big?" James snorted. "C'mon Sirius, it's Halloween. We've got to do something for the whole school!"

"Then what's your brilliant idea?"

"Blow up toilets?"

Sirius shook his head. "Blow up the feast?"

"And waste all that food?"

"Just the head table, then?"

James paused to consider that, then frowned. "D'you suppose we could blow up pudding without getting caught?"

"Okay, maybe we don't blow anything up."

Suddenly a pair of students sat down, one on James' right, the other on Sirius' left. James glanced at them in surprise and recognized them as the tall, wiry, red-headed boys who had given Dumbledore a standing ovation for his two-second start-of-term speech.

"Pardon our rudeness," said the boy beside James.

"Couldn't help overhearing," said the other, identical, boy.

Across the table, Frank raised his eyebrows. "You two've been standing behind them for five minutes."

The first boy grinned. "As we said. Couldn't help it."

"What do you want?" Sirius asked, gray eyes narrowing.

The boy beside Sirius nudged him in the side. "You wanna pull a Halloween prank."

James raised an eyebrow. "What, you want in?"

"Want in?" The boy beside James roared with laughter. "Y'hear that, Fabian?"

"They think we need 'in' on their adorable little—"

"Oy!" Sirius protested, glowering at Fabian. "Adorable?"

The red-headed boys laughed.

"Who are you, anyway?" James asked, crossing his arms.

"They don't know who we are!" Fabian clapped a hand to his forehead and stared at James and Sirius, aghast.

James' eyebrow twitched. He glanced at Sirius, who scowled.

The boy beside James gave a sweeping bow – and a rather awkward one at that, as he was crammed between James and a second year named Davy Gudgeon. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett—"

"Hogwart's Finest," Fabian finished. He, too, bowed with a flourish that caught the prefect, Eliot Donovan, in the face.

Eliot shot the Prewetts a dark look. "Finest? Finest troublemakers, perhaps."

Gideon and Fabian grinned. "Precisely."

"Troublemakers, huh?" James asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

"So what do you want with us?" Sirius asked, trying – and failing – to maintain his sour expression. It was obvious to James that Eliot's disapproval had changed Sirius' opinion of the older boys.

Gideon and Fabian leaned back to exchange a long look behind James' and Sirius' backs. After several seconds, they leaned forward.

"We want to teach you," Gideon said.

James frowned. "Teach us?"

"We've been watching you two," Fabian said.

Gideon nodded. "You've got potential. We thought—"

"Seeing as this is our last year, and all."

"—that it might be nice to pass on our expertise."

With a sly grin in Eliot's direction, Fabian added, "Otherwise, Hogwarts might get boring next year."

"And we wouldn't want that," Sirius added with a grin.

Fabian clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "A man after my own heart."

"So…" James glanced from one twin to the other. "What does this have to do with Halloween?"

"We've got a plan," Gideon said.

Fabian grinned. "And we want to let you in."

-.-.-

Gideon and Fabian left them wanting at the end of breakfast with a promise to find them soon for a planning meeting. And then the twins were gone, off to Potions, one of the few classes they were taking at NEWT level.

"What d'you suppose they're planning?" Sirius asked as they left the Great Hall for Transfiguration. James didn't have an answer for that. They fell into silence as they walked. When they reached the Transfiguration classroom, they glanced around for some clue what they would be working on today.

"Hey," Sirius said, stopping so James bumped into him. "Lupin's not here."

"What?" James glanced around. Most of the rest of the class was there – Frank and Peter and Alexander in the back near James' and Sirius' seats, Mary Macdonald and a rosy-cheeked girl called Greta Catchlove in the middle near the windows. Only a few empty seats remained, including one up front by Lily Evans: Remus' seat.

Just then, Professor McGonagall strode into the room and rapped on her big mahogany desk. "Settle down, students." James couldn't help but notice that McGonagall gave him and Sirius a particularly hard look, and they walked extra slowly down the aisle to their seats, just to annoy her.

One last pair of students slipped into their seats as James dropped dramatically into his. The seat beside Lily remained empty.

McGonagall started the lesson before James could dwell too long on Remus' absence, and he quickly forgot about the quiet boy. They were learning _Fera Verto_, a spell that turned animals into water goblets. James and Sirius had a great deal of fun with the assignment, turning it into a competition (Sirius was winning, but only because James overheard a squeamish Lily Evans asking McGonagall if this spell was humane; James promptly began turning his rat into the most gruesome half-goblet he could).

"Hey, look!" Peter said halfway through the lesson.

James leered a moment longer at the girls, who were looking faintly green at James' creation, a fuzzy goblet with bloody innards spilling over the rim. Then he turned round and spotted Remus standing in the doorway, scarlet splotches blossoming on his pale face as the entire class turned toward him. Remus dropped his eyes and shuffled to his seat beside Lily, who immediately began to fuss over him.

A murmur struck up among the students, and Remus' dormmates helpfully added that he'd been sick the night before. The color rose to Remus' ears, but he kept his head down and listened to Lily who, James presumed, was explaining the spell to him.

Professor McGonagall rapped her desk with her wand, and a few sparks shot out the end, silencing the chatter. "As I have yet to see any of you produce a hairless water goblet, I must insist you continue working."

Her voice left no room for disagreement, and so the students turned back to their animals and resumed their practice. Lily seemed too preoccupied with Remus to pay James any mind now, so he sighed and began to practice in earnest. He quickly closed the gap between himself and Sirius, whose goblet had lost its tail and appeared to be made of prickly white metal. Before long, Sirius noticed James' own progress – his goblet didn't look metallic yet, but it, too, was tailless – and the two spent the rest of the period racing to perfect the spell first.

-.-.-

"Where were you this morning, Remus?" Frank asked that afternoon in Herbology. He, Lily, and Remus were gathered around the table beside the one occupied by James, Sirius, Peter, and Alexander. The Abyssinian shrivelfig seedlings had outgrown their seed trays, and today the class was repotting them.

James patted the dirt around the roots of his seedling and glanced over to Remus. What little color had returned to his cheeks in the past few hours now drained away, and his golden eyes darted around the greenhouse.

"Oh, er… nowhere."

Lily frowned. "I noticed you weren't at breakfast."

"I wasn't feeling too well," Remus mumbled. He dropped his eyes to the seed tray.

Sirius dropped a seedling into a pot. "You weren't feeling good last night, either. I was kind of surprised that you were up so early."

Remus' elbow bumped into a waiting terracotta pot, knocking it over. An avalanche of dark soil cascaded across the workbench. Remus flushed red.

Lily eyed him curiously. "You were up early?"

"Yeah," James said. "He was gone before the rest of us woke up."

"Then why…?"

Remus hastily scooped the soil back into his flowerpot, avoiding Lily's prying eyes. "I … I woke up in the middle of the night…" he mumbled. "I wasn't feeling good… at all… so I went to the Hospital Wing."

Lily gasped. "Oh my gosh, Remus! Are you alright?"

"'m fine." Brushing the last of the soil off the bench, Remus set the pot down with a clatter that drew Professor Sprout's eyes. Remus ducked his head. "It wasn't that bad… Just… er, Madam Pomfrey made me stay… Wanted to make sure I was alright…" His voice trailed off, turning his attention to the next seedling as Professor Sprout wandered over.

"Everything alright over here?" Sprout asked.

"Fine," Remus said.

Sprout's lips turned down in a small frown, and she gave Remus a hard look. James had never seen the kindly lady give anyone a hard look before. Like James, Sirius was frowning at the professor. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Professor Sprout smiled.

"Remus, dear, could you help me with something?"

Dropping the seedling back into the tray, Remus stood and scuttled after Sprout to the far end of the greenhouse, where she set him to work sifting soil. She lingered near him for a few minutes, lips moving, but James couldn't make out what she was saying. Eventually, he lost interest and turned his thoughts back to the Halloween prank.

-.-.-

The planning meeting with the Prewetts took place Saturday night, shortly after midnight, in the Gryffindor common room. James and Sirius listened eagerly, if a little disappointed that the twins would be executing the grand finale alone. (Then again, they were seventh years, and they assured James that the spell they would be using was far beyond the capabilities of a lowly first year. James and Sirius both disagreed on this point, but to no avail.)

The next day, Gideon and Fabian showed James and Sirius a secret chamber hidden under an unused classroom on the fifth floor. The chamber was round and cozy with a pile of plump green cushions in one corner, lush brown carpeting, and candles glowing merrily in small nooks around the walls.

Fabian grinned as he pulled the trapdoor closed behind him and jumped down from the ladder. "You'll need the password—"

"_Skippyjon_," Gideon supplied.

"—to get in."

James raised an eyebrow. "_Skippyjon_?"

"Hey," Gideon said. "Keeps Filch out, doesn't it?"

"Which makes it an excellent place to hide," Fabian added.

"Or practice spells we need for pranks."

"Which is what you'll be doing."

"Don't worry." Gideon winked at them. "We've got loads of silencing charms on it. There could be a class going on right overhead and no one'd ever know you're here."

When Gideon and Fabian left, James and Sirius set to work practicing the spell they would need for Halloween. They soon grew bored with their "haunted" cushions and dissolved into a magic pillow duel. (Coincidentally, this gave them ample opportunity to practice the other spells they had been teaching themselves the past few weeks.)

Half an hour later, surrounded by alternately scorched and sopping cushions and an abundance of levitating feathers, James and Sirius flopped down on the pile of intact cushions. They lay there a moment, James snickering as Sirius complained about his singed hair, the result of a poorly-aimed _Incendio_ charm.

"We ought to learn those silencing charms Gideon mentioned," James said, sitting up. "That way, I don't have to listen to your whining."

Sirius rolled over and punched James in the arm.

-.-.-

A few days later, James and Sirius decided they should try the spell on pumpkins, as they would be doing on Halloween, rather than just on cushions. They spent a good deal of time arguing about where to get them – more time than they might have, had their argument not begun while they sat in the secret room practicing the simplest variation of the silencing charm _Silencio_. Even this version was a fifth year spell, however, and both boys seemed to be having a bit of trouble getting the charm right.

"Hagrid's got loads of pumpkins," James said while Sirius scanned the book where they'd found the charm. "Why don't we just—"

"_Silencio_," Sirius said with a lazy jabbing motion, not looking up from the book. James cut off abruptly with a sound like a frog's croak. Sirius glanced up and frowned. "That's not right. And have you _seen_ his pumpkins, mate? How're we supposed to—?"

Coughing, James raised his wand. "_Silencio!_" he wheezed. Sirius' hand rose to his throat. "—just ask him?" James finished the question he'd been in the middle of asking before Sirius' charm had cut him off. "He'd probably give us one. How was that?"

"Not quite," Sirius rasped, his voice a near whistle. James scowled and snatched the book away from Sirius, who cleared his throat and said in a more-or-less normal voice, "How're we supposed to sneak a pumpkin the size of a hippogriff into the castle? _Silencio_!" he added as James opened his mouth to speak. "I say we find the kitchens and nick some from there."

"Where…" James' voice was a squeaky and girlish, and Sirius burst out laughing, ignoring James' glare. "Any ideas where the kitchens are? Or – _Silencio!_ – d'you suppose we should ask the twins?" He paused, thinking of all the times he'd seen Gideon and Fabian coming through the portrait hole late at night with armfuls of food James was sure hadn't been served at dinner. They must have known where the kitchens were, but… "I don't reckon they'd be impressed if the 'next great pranksters' had to ask them for directions. We should try and find it on our own."

A moment passed before Sirius made a sound. "So we look. _Silencio_!" he finished, a triumphant grin on his face as James found himself unable to respond, if only for a moment. "I guess that settles it."

* * *

**A/N: Remus has just had his second full moon at Hogwarts, but was it any better than the first? Find out in chapter two of _Moony's Story_ - October 1971: Lies.  
**


	10. Halloween

**Chapter 10: Halloween**

The hardest part of finding the kitchens was figuring out where to look. They spent the better part of a week scouring the ground floor every chance they got – between classes, after dinner, in the middle of the night. They found a good number of secrets – a passage behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that led out into the Quad, a passage behind a portrait of a man and a dragon that led to Filch's office, and a door in a supply closet that they couldn't get open.

But they days passed, and still James and Sirius found no sign of the kitchens. With just five days left before Halloween, James finally voiced what he'd been thinking for nearly a week:

"I don't think the kitchens are on this floor, mate."

Sirius' brow furrowed. "I hate to say it, but… I think you're right."

James sighed. "So where do we look now?"

"We could always ask the Prewetts," Sirius suggested, but he had a thoughtful look on his face and didn't seem to have really meant what he said.

"Up or down?"

"What?"

"Up or down," James repeated. "D'you think the kitchens are upstairs somewhere or down in the dungeons?"

Sirius pursed his lips. "Well, the kitchen at my house is in the basement…"

Laughing, James turned on his heel and walked toward the stairs. "Down it is!"

For the rest of that day and the following afternoon, they concentrated their search in the dungeons immediately below the Great Hall, as James had pointed out that it would be easier to have the kitchens close so they wouldn't have to transport the food as far. Sirius had asked what it mattered if they were using magic anyway, and James merely shrugged and replied that _he'd_ like to keep the kitchens close at any rate, and that maybe magicking food long distances made it taste funny, he didn't know.

It was Wednesday after Defense Against the Dark Arts that they found it. They were walking down a warmly lit corridor, peering over and around stacks of crates and barrels that lined the walls and debating how much longer they would hold out before asking the twins for directions. James reckoned they didn't need to pumpkins _so_ badly. He really wanted to find the kitchens on their own.

"Hang on."

James stopped and turned expectantly to Sirius, who was frowning. "What is it?" James asked.

Shaking his head, Sirius took a hesitant step toward a painting, a large still life of a bowl of fruit. "I just… No – it was probably nothing – I thought I saw something move…"

"In this painting?" James asked, following Sirius to the painting and squinting up at it.

"It was probably nothing," Sirius repeated, but neither he nor James turned away from the painting. Slowly, Sirius raised his hand. "Somewhere… here…" He indicated a pear on the left side of the painting with a sweeping gesture, his fingers brushing against the canvas.

James blinked as the pear shivered under Sirius' touch. Sirius drew his hand back. "No," James said. "Do that again."

Sirius ran his fingers over the pear, which gave a little giggle. A bemused frown crossed Sirius' face. "No… Really?" He began to tickle the pear, which squirmed and giggled more. A moment later, a doorknob appeared on the painting just under Sirius' fingers. He grinned.

When Sirius swung the portrait-door open, it revealed a massive, bustling room filled with hundreds of house elves running to and fro from stoves and ovens and sinks. Five tables stood in the center of the room – four of them long and low like the house tables, one taller at the front; the head table.

It took a moment for the house elves to notice the boys gawking at them from the portrait hole, but soon enough, several veered away from their preparation to greet them.

"Hello, sirs," one said in a squeaky voice, bowing so low his long, sharp nose brushed the floor. "How can Trimsy help you?"

"Oh," James said, glancing at the chaos of the kitchen. "Er… don't mind us. We don't want to distract you…"

Trimsy shook his head, his droopy ears flapping with the motion. "You are not distracting Trimsy, sirs. Trimsy is here to serve the students of Hogwarts. Trimsy is happy to get you anything, sirs. Just say the word, sirs, and Trimsy will get what you want."

James' eyebrows shot up. Anything? "Er… In that case, we were hoping we could get a couple pumpkins for…" He paused, trying to think up a reason they might need pumpkins. But Trimsy was already bowing.

"Of course, sir. Wait here, please. Trimsy will be right back."

The house elf scampered off. A moment later, he and another elf returned, each carrying a pumpkin about the size of James' head.

"Will these do, sirs?" Trimsy asked as James reached out to take the pumpkin he held. Nearby, Sirius took the pumpkin from the other house elf.

"They're perfect. Thanks!"

Trimsy bowed, looking pleased. "Can Trimsy get anything else for you, sirs?"

James shook his head, but Sirius stepped forward. "You wouldn't happen to have some chocolate cake, would you?"

-.-.-

Twenty minutes later, James and Sirius sat in the round room on the mound of cushions, contemplating their pumpkins. Sirius licked the last of the chocolate cake off his fingers, smiling. "I think I like that Trimsy bloke."

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Ready to practice now?"

Nodding, Sirius set the plate and fork on the ground, jumping as they vanished with a pop. Then, with a chuckle, he turned to the pumpkins and raised his wand. He recited the incantation Gideon and Fabian had taught them, and the pumpkin on the left gave a shudder. James did the same with the other pumpkin.

They watched as the pumpkins lurched and spun at random intervals.

"Seems a little boring, don't you think?" Sirius asked, frowning.

James had to agree. Compared to the rest of the plan, a few twitchy pumpkins seemed pathetic. "Maybe we can… tweak the plan."

Sirius smirked at him. "Have something in mind?"

-.-.-

The rest of the week passed torturously, each class dragging on endlessly while James and Sirius fidgeted in their seats, eager to get back to the round room and practice the new charm on the pair of pumpkins waiting for them there.

They were careful not to spend too much time with the Prewett twins, in case someone started to get suspicious, but on Friday, Fabian paused in the common room to ask if everything was ready. James had assured him it was, and though Fabian had shot a wary look toward Sirius, who was snickering into his Potions book, the seventh year nodded and told them they could start their part of the prank first thing in the morning.

James and Sirius were the first up the next day, but they tried their best to get ready slowly. The Prewetts had insisted that they couldn't act suspicious about anything, or McGonagall would be sure to catch them. That was how they'd gotten caught with the Howlers, after all. And so James and Sirius waited for the rest of their dormmates to get dressed before they headed down to the Great Hall as a group.

They didn't look at the Prewetts once during breakfast, but engaged the other students in conversation. The third through seventh years had a Hogsmeade visit that day, and many of the first years took avid interest in the village. James had heard stories from his parents of course, as had most of the other purebloods and half-bloods, but it was nothing like hearing about the various sights and shops from the older students. He couldn't help but think that a visit to Zonko's Joke Shop would help immensely with future pranks, and wondered whether there might be a secret passage somewhere in the castle that led to Hogsmeade.

After the older students had left, James and Sirius wandered the castle, casting the charm they had prepared on various pumpkins scattered around as decorations. They didn't stick around, in case they accidentally triggered the charm themselves. Instead, they continued their perpetual search for secret passages. They had found nearly a dozen so far, but James knew that couldn't be anywhere near all the secrets Hogwarts had to offer.

It was midmorning when they got their first indication that their prank was working. James and Sirius were pacing the third floor corridor, tapping various fixtures with their wands, when a shrill scream split the silence. The boys turned to see a fourth year girl from Ravenclaw running down the corridor, a pumpkin hurtling after her. She threw herself behind a statue of a one-eyed witch, and the pumpkin crashed against the stone, splattering the corridor with pumpkin guts.

James and Sirius turned and hurried away, doing their best to smother their laughter, but Sirius couldn't resist muttering, "Looks like it's working swimmingly."

Someone cleared their throat behind James and Sirius, and they cringed. James turned first and found himself face-to-face with the Defense professor, Jasper Juniper. The man raised one black eyebrow and jerked his head toward the door behind him. Sighing, James and Sirius followed him.

"I take it that was your work," Professor Juniper said without preamble.

Sirius crossed his arms. "What makes you think that?"

A smile tugged at Professor Juniper's lips. "I'm not going to punish you, Mr. Black."

"You won't?"

James elbowed Sirius, frowning. This was probably just a trick to get them to confess.

But Juniper's smile widened. "Presuming no one will get hurt, of course?"

"Of course not," Sirius said. "We only enchanted the tiny little hollowed-out pumpkins. The worst that'll happen is a faceful of pumpkin seeds."

Chuckling, Juniper leaned against his desk. "Good, good… That's some impressive charm work you've done."

James shrugged, still eyeing the professor suspiciously. Was he _really_ not going to get them in trouble? "I guess."

"Really, Mr. Potter. No need to be modest. I know third years who wouldn't be able to enchant those pumpkins like you have. Well done."

The last of James' doubts evaporated, and he grinned along with Sirius. "So…" James said after a moment. "Does this mean we're free to go?"

"Yes, of course." Professor Juniper waved his hand toward the door. "Go on. I don't think I have to tell you to enjoy your Halloween."

James turned to go, but Sirius hesitated, regarding Juniper with a curious sort of from. "Hey – Professor?"

"Yes?"

"How come you aren't in Hogsmeade with the rest of the school?"

Juniper suddenly became very interested in the stack of essays sitting on his desk. "Oh, you know. Things to do. And as much as I like to enjoy myself every now and then… Well, I'm a professor, not a celebrity. No need to go squandering my gold when there's a perfectly wonderful, perfectly free feast awaiting us all this evening."

And as Juniper seemed disinclined to continue that line of conversation, James and Sirius scampered out into the hallway, which was now deserted. Bits of smashed pumpkin dripped from the one-eyed witch's shoulder, landing with wet splats on the stone floor. James caught Sirius' eye, jerked his head, and led the way down the corridor. Best to be far, far away before Filch saw the mess their prank had caused.

-.-.-

By lunch, most of the older students had returned from Hogsmeade, and James and Sirius had made sure to enchant a good number of pumpkins near the doors to the Great Hall, so several unsuspecting students were clobbered by flying pumpkins before the rest caught on and sprinted in to the hall.

James and Sirius sat with the rest of the first and second years, who had arrived before James and Sirius cast the charm, watching the display. James noted with relief that many of their earlier victims now laughed as the older students ducked the orange projectiles. He hadn't regretted the prank, but it was always better when everyone saw the humor in it – especially something like this, which was meant in good fun rather than revenge.

The Great Hall was quickly covered in orange as pumpkins smashed into walls, tables, and students. Even Gideon and Fabian sported some goop as they sat at the Gryffindor table ten feet down from James and Sirius, but the twins were laughing as they picked the stringy mess off their robes and flung it at other Gryffindors. Gideon glanced toward James and grinned wider, giving him a barely perceptible nod.

Pride surged through James as he smirked at Sirius.

The professors stepped in to end the barrage, though by that time few enchanted pumpkins remained in the air. McGonagall shot a hard look at the twins, and then toward James and Sirius, but all four boys pretended not to notice and resumed their meal. The commotion in the Great Hall slowly quieted to the normal hum of conversation.

The peace didn't last long before the second part of the plan kicked in.

Spiders the size of knuts crawled out of the food dishes and scampered across the tables. James knew they were only corn kernels transfigured by Gideon and Fabian, and that the spell would run out in a few minutes, but even so, he had to admit the sight turned his stomach. While the students around him shuddered and shrank back from the thousands of spiders now dropping to the floor – more than a few girls screaming – James pushed his plate away.

Once more, the professors strode down the aisles between tables, waving their wands to turn the spiders back into corn. The students began to calm, and James wasn't the only one laughing now. Some students still looked sour and shaken, but more and more smiles appeared as they realized what had happened.

McGonagall wasted no time in crossing to where the twins sat, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. James admired the looks of calm disinterest that appeared on the twins' faces as they looked up at McGonagall.

"I trust you had nothing to do with this," she said tightly.

Fabian looked surprised. "Us?"

"Nothing at all," Gideon said, shaking his head. "Looks like we've got competition, Fabian."

McGonagall stared at them a moment longer, flicked a look to James and Sirius, and sighed. "Very well. Let us hope whoever is responsible decides not to do anything else." James could tell she knew very well that the Prewetts had been responsible, but she obviously realized she had no proof, so she turned and returned to the head table.

Remus Lupin fixed them with a look eerily similar to McGonagall's. James smiled innocently back at him. A second later, Remus stood and left the Great Hall.

Sirius stared after the quiet boy. "He knows."

James snorted. "So what? He can't prove anything."

"Still…" Sirius sounded uncertain, but he shrugged and let it go.

-.-.-

When it came time for the feast, the students entered the Great Hall with an air of anxiety. Nothing had happened since lunch, but those who knew the Prewetts – which was most of the school – knew they wouldn't be so lucky as to make it through the feast without some kind of disturbance. James and Sirius were as jittery as the rest, but in their case, it was anticipation of what the Prewetts were planning, rather than dread.

It happened as the students were serving themselves dessert late in the feast. In a heartbeat, all the lights in the Great Hall blinked out – the torches in brackets on the wall, the candles floating in midair, even the tea lights in the jack-o-lanterns floating in the corners. There wasn't even moonlight from the ceiling, as the new moon had been just last night. Only the faint twinkle of stars illuminated the dark forms sweeping about overhead.

The bats that had been circling the Great Hall all evening let out little squeaks as they scattered, their wing beats sounding like pouring rain in the sudden silence.

James felt the air stir as one of the great, dark shapes swooped low over the Gryffindor table, eliciting a few startled gasps. A moment later, someone across the hall yelped in surprise. Before long, shouts and cries rose from all across the Great Hall as the forms tugged on hair and robes, hissed in students' ears, and cackled shrilly into the darkness.

As before, the professors quickly stepped in to restore light to the Great Hall. Torches flared to life to reveal a half dozen scarecrows zipping around the room. Two more hovered over the doors with a banner that said, GRYFFINDOR RULES.

A cheer went up from the Gryffindor table, although the usual pricks remained sullenly silent – Remus, Lily, and the prefects. Eliot Donovan in particular looked as unamused as McGonagall herself. The Slytherins, too, grumbled to themselves and glared at the Gryffindors. The greater portion of the other houses chuckled good-naturedly, amused now that the scare was over, although some looked a bit miffed as they smoothed rumbled robes and mussed hair.

McGonagall looked like she wanted to do something, but as she made to stand up, Professor Dumbledore placed a hand on her arm and said something with a smile. McGonagall frowned at him, but didn't move.

James and Sirius grinned and helped themselves to extra-large slices of pumpkin pie.


	11. New Friends

**Chapter 11: New Friends**

After Halloween, James and Sirius joined the Prewetts in more pranks, although none as ambitious as the first. Under the twins' tutelage, the two first years discovered more secret passages and learned all sorts of spells. True, it meant they neglected some of their homework and handed in more than a few essays that returned low marks, but James didn't much care about that. Both he and Sirius could perform all the required spells flawlessly and knew the information that they were supposed to. They just didn't have time to waste writing foot after foot of parchment on wizards who had lived three hundred years ago or the origin of a charm. Besides, it was the exams in June that made up most of their grade, and they knew they would have no trouble acing those.

Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy continued to give them a hard time, and though Sirius once tried to hex them, they proved too adept at blocking the spells. Whenever they ran into the pair after that, though Sirius hated to give up, they would only stay long enough to hurl a few insults before disappearing into a secret passageway or sprinting back to the common room.

Twice more Professor Juniper caught James and Sirius at the scene of a prank. The first time, while pranking fourth years in the Astronomy Tower, he pulled them aside, as before, to ensure that the prank wouldn't hurt anyone, before sending them on their way. The second time, in the dungeons, he merely shook his head and chuckled to himself as he turned the other way and walked on.

Once, when McGonagall gave them detention for hexing Severus Snape (Gideon had taught them the Bat-Bogey Hex, and they had wanted to try it out on someone who deserved to be attacked by their own bogeys), they found themselves serving their time in Professor Juniper's office, cleaning out cages that held the dark creatures the third years were studying. There were the wispy Hinkypunks, which liked to lure travelers to their death; Japanese demons called Kappas with deep, water-filled depressions in their foreheads; short, stout Red Caps, scavengers usually found creeping about on old battlefields; and tiny, blue, mischievous Cornish Pixies.

Professor Juniper told them stories while they worked, about dark wizards he didn't have time to cover in class. A witch known only as Stella the Vile had derived great pleasure from turning muggles inside out, until Tristan Tournamaine had turned her into a toad and brought her in to the Ministry. In the eighteenth century, the dark wizard Frederick del Bene had been infamous for indiscriminate acts of violence directed at muggles and wizards alike: poisoning water supplies, leaving cursed objects lying around, and the like. After five dark years the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Elfindork Endowynn, had dueled and killed del Bene.

James' favorite story of the lot was that of Svertin the Dark, the first wizard to petrify another human being. Svertin had been a cocky git, and when a young man named James of Rubenswood had discovered the cure, he had led the victims in a midnight raid that had ended in Svertin's own petrification. Shortly thereafter, the statue that had once been Svertin the Dark was shoved off a cliff to smash into pieces on the jagged rocks below.

Professor Juniper let them off an hour early that night.

"Hogwarts needs a little chaos every now and then," he explained when Sirius asked him why he wasn't as angry as the other professors. "And don't let them fool you. They enjoy pranks as much as I do."

"Then how come we get detentions all the time?" James asked.

Professor Juniper smiled. "We have to make it look like we're responsible people, Mr. Potter. We're professors, after all. Now run along, and mind you hold your tongue about this."

James wished everyone could be so laidback about their pranks. Eliot Donovan and the other prefects gave him dark looks whenever they passed him in the corridors, no doubt suspecting he was in the middle of another plot to lose points for Gryffindor. Lily Evans never missed a chance to reprimand him for his deplorable behavior. She seemed to have something personal against James, and he wondered if she didn't hang around Snape, just to get on his nerves.

But the worst of the lot was Remus Lupin, perhaps because James and Sirius had to share a room with him. Though Frank Longbottom occasionally frowned upon their pranks, he had the courtesy to let them do as they would. Remus, on the other hand, made his disapproval known. James and Sirius quickly gave up on planning anything in the dormitory because they found Remus' constant huffing immensely distracting.

Still, Remus always seemed to turn up wherever they were planning, and more often than not, a prefect or professor would pass that way a few minutes later. James wouldn't go so far as to accuse Remus of being a snitch (though Sirius would, and did), but he thought it wise to remain tight-lipped whenever Remus was in the vicinity.

Remus' behavior got on their nerves so much that by the time his sour mood put a damper on the celebration of Gryffindor's slamming Slytherin in the first Quidditch match in middle of November, they had decided to prank him. Sirius hoped it would get Remus off their case, but James wasn't so optimistic. He just wanted to be as annoying to Remus as Remus was to them.

However, when the day came to put their plan into motion, Remus was nowhere to be found. It was a Friday, and their only class was Double Potions with the Slytherins. When class started, Remus' usual seat beside Peter Pettigrew was empty.

"Where d'you suppose he is?" Sirius asked as he chopped up ginger roots for the potion.

James frowned. "I dunno."

"You think we'll still be able to pull this?"

"Of course we will," James said. "He's not going to get off the hook just because he skips class… Although I have to say, that's a step in the right direction."

With a snort, Sirius tossed the chopped roots into his cauldron and watched as the potion turned purple. "That's not supposed to happen…" He checked his Potions book. "You really think he's skipping?" he asked, distracted.

James shrugged and added his own roots, watching as his potion turned blue. Also not right. "What's he doing then?"

"Trying to get us in trouble?" Sirius guessed, tossing a few more bits of ginger root into his cauldron. The potion turned a bit redder, and, grinning, Sirius dropped in another handful before continuing with the procedure.

James followed Sirius' lead and chopped up more roots. "How? We're not doing anything right now… Well, nothing besides… you know."

"Maybe he's making something up."

James started to argue, but stopped as both his and Sirius' potions started smoking. "Maybe we added too much ginger?" James asked, scanning the instructions in his book.

Their discussion of Remus's whereabouts was forgotten for the rest of the period as they struggled to complete the potion they were trying to make. In the end, it didn't turn out quite right – rather than a red potion with a syrupy consistency, James wound up with a thick, lumpy, orange goop and Sirius with a liquid that was at least almost red, though much too thin.

After class, James and Sirius went looking for Remus, eager to pull the prank they had been looking forward to for the last week. Finding him proved rather more difficult than they expected, though. He wasn't in the common room or dormitory, or in the library, or the Great Hall. As they were headed to the Owlery to see if he might be there, they ran into Professor McGonagall, who frowned at them.

"Where are you going, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black?"

James hesitated. "Looking for Remus, Professor."

"He wasn't in class this morning," Sirius added, feigning concern.

McGonagall's eyes softened. "Yes, I know."

"You… do?" James asked, genuinely surprised, and – strangely – a bit worried. Had something happened? Why was McGonagall looking so… kind?

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Mr. Lupin received word early this morning that his mother has fallen ill."

James' stomach dropped. He glanced over to see that Sirius was frowning, his gray eyes unreadable.

"Professor Dumbledore gave him permission to go visit her at St. Mungo's," McGonagall continued. "He believes – and I quite agree – that it would do no good to anyone to force Mr. Lupin to sit through a class when he couldn't possibly focus on his work."

"So… when will he be back?" James asked without any real interest. He couldn't pull a prank on the boy when his mother was in St. Mungo's.

McGonagall smiled sadly. "I'm not sure. I hope he will be back before classes on Monday, but it all depends on his mother's condition."

James nodded numbly and turned. He heard Sirius follow him down the corridor, looking as pensive as James. They walked in silence out into the courtyard, which had been largely deserted since the weather turned cold around Halloween.

Tucking his hands under his arms, James made his way to a low stone bench and sat down, staring at the brick pattern underfoot.

"Poor Remus," Sirius murmured, joining James on the bench. When James shot a surprised look his way, he flushed and averted his eyes. "What? Just 'cause I don't like my mother doesn't mean I don't understand that most people do."

James grimaced. "Right. Sorry."

Waving him off, Sirius kicked at a loose stone. "That's rotten luck."

"Yeah. I mean, he can be a prat, but still… His mum's in the hospital!" James paused. "I don't think we should prank him, not after this."

Sirius looked at him, frowning. "Course not. Wouldn't be very funny."

"How about we prank a Slytherin instead?"

"Which one?"

"Snivellus?"

Sirius grinned.

-.-.-

When Remus returned Sunday morning, he was swarmed by the other Gryffindor first years. They formed a small knot in the common room with Remus at the center, James and Sirius at his side. Remus looked pale and drawn, nearly asleep on his feet, and he shied away from the bodies pressing close around him.

"Are you okay, Remus?" Peter asked timidly.

Frank put a hand on Remus' shoulder. "How's your mum?"

"She's okay…" Remus mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "The healers let her go home."

"That's good," Sirius said, beaming.

Remus smiled weakly but didn't meet Sirius' eyes.

Lily Evans pushed her way through the crowd to Remus' side. "You must be exhausted, Remus. Why don't you go lie down?" She gave the gathered students a stern frown. "Well? Go on!"

Reluctantly, the crowd broke up. Remus murmured a "thank you" to Lily and disappeared up the stairs.

James rolled his eyes at Lily. "Bossy much?"

Lily's green eyes flashed dangerously. "Leave him alone, Potter. He doesn't need you giving him trouble after this."

"We weren't planning on doing anything," Sirius snapped, growing defensive.

"Well excuse me!" Lily huffed. "How would I know that you two can actually be decent human beings?"

James rolled his eyes. "Leave us alone, Evans."

She spun on her heel and stalked off, red hair trailing behind her, and disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Sirius watched her go. "Can you believe her?"

-.-.-

The rest of November passed peacefully (aside from the occasional prank and the rare detention). Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their match, and the Gryffindor team redoubled their efforts at practice in preparation for their next match in the spring.

The professors were beginning to give out projects and essays to be completed before the Christmas holidays, much to the students' disgust. James and Sirius slogged through their homework when they had time, which wasn't often. But the Prewett twins had taught them several privacy charms so that James and Sirius could sit up in bed, lighting their wands enough to read or having a quiet conversation, without disturbing their dormmates. Often, James had nothing better to do than homework while waiting for the other boys to fall asleep so he and Sirius could sneak out.

The first snow came before the end of November, putting a halt to the students' efforts to touch the Whomping Willow's trunk. They'd been playing the game on and off since October, but Frank pointed out that the snow would hold their footprints. The last thing they all wanted was for the Professors to know they were messing around the Whomping Willow, so they all agreed to steer clear until the spring. Instead, they occupied themselves with snowball fights and building snow forts.

December found the students more restless than ever as they counted down the days to the Christmas holidays. Professor McGonagall came around to collect a list of students who would be staying at Hogwarts over the break. James knew his mother was expecting him home, but Sirius was staying, and James didn't want to leave him here all alone. Only two other Gryffindors were staying, neither of them someone James and Sirius knew. Sirius tried to protest, but James ignored him and signed his name on the list, then nervously sent his mother an owl explaining why he'd changed his mind about coming home.

Not long after this, Remus got word that his mother had taken a turn for the worse, and he left for home a week early. The other first year Gryffindors were painfully aware of the empty seat and bed, and even James and Sirius, who held no great love for the bookish boy, entered the last week of classes with dampened spirits.

"At least he isn't missing much," Sirius said in Herbology on Tuesday. Professor Juniper and Professor Flitwick had decided to hold off on teaching anything new until after the holidays, no doubt realizing that the students were too antsy to pay much attention. They'd had their last flying lesson the day before, but it was just a skills test to determine who was ready to fly without supervision, and Remus could make that up any time. And there wasn't much to do in Herbology. They were mostly just getting ready for the second half of the year, which James found boring, but Sprout let the students talk freely, as the tasks didn't require much attention.

Professor Slughorn had made them do a bit more work, and McGonagall was sure to carry on as usual, like Professor Binns had, but Remus could have been missing a lot more than he was.

Just as Professor Sprout was dismissing the class, Peter Pettigrew spilled potting soil all over a workbench and had to stay behind to clean it up. James and Sirius trailed out with the rest of the students, but with an impish grin, Sirius flung a snowball at James, who retaliated quickly enough. The others had disappeared into the castle before, damp and chilled, James and Sirius called a truce.

Laughing, they brushed the snow from their hair and robes and turned toward the doors.

"Whatsa matter?" a crackly voice said from behind one of the greenhouses. James and Sirius stopped and looked around as they heard a mumbled response.

Someone laughed a low, trollish laugh. "No one here to save you, Petey."

There was a whimper.

"Look at that, Wilkes! The widdle baby's gonna cry!"

James didn't have to look at Sirius to know that his blood was boiling just the same as James'. Balling his hands into fists, James stormed around the corner of the greenhouse. Peter Pettigrew lay sprawled on the snow, his books scattered around him, staring up at two second year Slytherins. James recognized the spindly frame and bulging eyes of Evan Rosier, which meant that the other, a boy with a trollish stoop and glazed expression to match his thick voice, must have been Wilkes.

Rosier raised his wand as Peter scrambled back over mud and snow.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Sirius roared.

Three heads swiveled as Rosier's wand spun through the air and landed in a patch of mud. James' wand was in his hand in a second, and he pointed it at Wilkes, who stared back at him dumbly.

"What are you doing?" James demanded tightly, eyes flicking to Peter.

Rosier recovered first and rounded on James and Sirius, eyes blazing. "What's it to you, Potter? And _you_," he spat, glaring at Sirius. "You ought to be on our side!"

"_Furnunculus!_" A jet of purple light shot out of Sirius' wand and hit Rosier in the face, causing him to yelp as large, red boils appeared there.

Wilkes turned his wand on Sirius, but James was faster – "_Tarantallegra!_" – and Wilkes' spell went wide as his legs began to jerk and dance uncontrollably. He remained upright for only a second before he toppled.

"Go on!" Sirius growled, advancing on the two Slytherins. "Or do you want more?"

Rosier grabbed his wand and fled, leaving Wilkes to lurch after him, half-crawling, his legs refusing to cooperate. James would have laughed, if not for the soft snuffling sound coming from Peter.

"You alright?" James asked, turning to Peter, who swiped at the tears and snot running down his face as he scrambled to collect his books. Sirius and James crouched to help, and Peter muttered his thanks.

"What happened?" Sirius pressed, handing Peter his quill.

Peter shrugged. "Nothing," he murmured.

"You sure?" James asked, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

At first, Peter only nodded his head, still sniffling from time to time. When James and Sirius didn't immediately leave, however, Peter bit his lip and swallowed thickly. "They… they said I shouldn't be here. That I'm not – not good enough."

"What?" James felt the anger rising in him and he glared in the direction the Slytherins had gone. "Those slimy little –"

Sirius snorted. "Don't listen to the Slytherins, Pete. They're arses, the whole lot of them."

"But…"

"No," James said – a little more sharply than he'd intended to. Peter flinched, and James took a breath to calm himself down. "Sirius is right. You're a perfectly good wizard, and a hundred times better person than the two of them put together."

Peter looked up at him shyly. "You really think so?"

James grinned. "You bet."

"Absolutely," Sirius agreed.

A small smile spread across Peter's face. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." James clapped Peter on the back. "We're friends, aren't we?"

"W-we are?" Peter's eyes had gone wide, and he stared at them in disbelief.

Sirius chuckled. "Of course we are. You helped us get back at Gilderoy, didn't you? You're our roommate, aren't you?"

Blinking, Peter nodded.

"Then we're friends," Sirius finished, as though it were obvious.

James grinned. "C'mon, Pete. We know a bunch of spells you can use against gits like Wilkes and Rosier. We'll teach you if you want."

Peter nodded his head eagerly and scurried along beside James and Sirius as they walked back into the castle, discussing which spells they ought to teach Peter first.

And so the duo became a trio. For the rest of the week, Peter went wherever James and Sirius did, asking questions and talking about the spells they were teaching him (he didn't pick them up as quickly as James and Sirius had, but he was making progress). They introduced him to Andromeda, whom they often chatted with after Herbology, and he blushed as she smiled and said she was delighted to meet him.

But mostly, Peter just listened. He listened as James and Sirius planned out the prank they wanted to pull when everyone returned from the holidays. He listened to them discuss the spells they wanted to teach themselves.

He listened, and he followed, learning the secret passages that ran through the walls of the castle like a great, invisible web. James and Sirius both made an effort to include him in whatever they did, even inviting him along when they snuck out Thursday night. Peter declined nervously, but they didn't hold it against him. There was always the risk of getting caught by Filch or one of the professors, and they weren't going to pressure him when the evening might well end in them all getting detention.

All three boys were sad that Peter was going home for Christmas, but it was too late to do anything about it, so on Saturday morning, James and Sirius walked with Peter down to the line of carriages waiting to carry students to the Hogsmeade Station. Once the carriages pulled away, silence descended on the castle, left all but empty for the next two weeks, and James and Sirius went to find some way to entertain themselves.

* * *

**A/N: Two full moons, a new excuse, and an extra week of holidays - through Remus' eyes. Chapter three of _Moony's Story _is up**** - "December 1971:**** Homecoming."**

**A few months have passed and Peter is getting settled in to life at Hogwarts, but there are still bullies to deal with... Until James and Sirius swoop in to save the day. Check out chapter two of _Wormtail's Story_ - "Of Bullies and Gryffindors."  
**

**Lily decides to go home even though her best friend is spending Christmas at Hogwarts. She's allowed to do minor magic to show her parents what she's learned, but how will Petunia react? Find out in chapter two of _Lily's Story_ - "Freak."  
**


	12. The Christmas Holidays

**Chapter 12: The Christmas Holidays**

On Christmas morning, James woke to find a mound of presents at the foot of his bed. Grinning, he flung his pillow at Sirius.

"Wake up!" he cried, glad that Gryffindor Tower was all but empty. He didn't have to worry about keeping his voice down.

Sirius grumbled something and pulled James' pillow over his head, but James paid him no mind as he snatched up the first present from his pile. The messily wrapped package had a small tag with Sirius' signature scrawled across it. James grinned and tore open the wrappings.

"Dungbombs!" James cried. "Brilliant! I've been wanting to toss these into the Slytherins' cauldrons for ages!"

Sirius moved James' pillow to grin at him. "I know. You keep telling me."

As James reached for the next present, Sirius threw back his blankets, "returned" James' pillow by hurling it at his head, and dove into his own presents.

James let the wrapping paper drop to the floor as he opened present after present – chocolate frogs from Peter, a box of fudge from his mother, a leather journal in Gryffindor red and gold from his father (with a note inside saying, _Absolutely _not_ for pranks_). He had to laugh at that, although he felt a little disappointed; Mr. Potter usually gave his son something more fun. Not that James wouldn't get good use out of the journal, between prank ideas and keeping track of all the secret passages he was finding, but still…

At a thump, James looked up to see that Sirius had just dropped a fat book, yellow with age, off the side of his bed. Curious, James picked it up and read the title. _Notable Wizarding Families_. James raised his eyebrows and heard Sirius snort.

"I think they're trying to give me a hint, don't you?"

"You mean this was your parents' gift to you?" James asked, incredulous. What kid would want something like _that_?

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Technically, it's from Regulus – my brother. I mean, obviously it was my parents' idea, but c'mon, you think they're gonna send _me_ a Christmas present?"

"Sorry, mate."

Sirius waved him off. "It's for the best. You don't wanna know what kinds of presents they've gotten me in the past." He shuddered and reached for the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans sitting on his bed – Peter's present, James guessed. James' own gift, a bottle of Frog Spawn Soap, was the next Sirius opened, and he laughed.

"Maybe this should go in the Slytherins' potions, too," he said, setting it aside and reaching for the next gift with a frown. "Who's… Your mum sent me something?"

James shrugged. "I… er… _may_ have mentioned in a letter that you were my best mate and that your parents… er… didn't seem to like that." He scratched his head, messing up his already unruly hair. "Hope you don't mind."

When Sirius saw that Mrs. Potter had sent him his own massive slab of homemade fudge, he grinned. "I don't mind at all! Mmm…" He popped a piece into his mouth and grabbed his last present, looking at the tag.

"Who's it from?" James asked, unwrapping a chocolate frog. It hopped off the bed, and James chased after it, digging through shreds of paper and ribbons until he found it.

Sirius unwrapped the present. "It's from Andy – Andromeda."

"Really?" James bit into the chocolate frog and nudged Sirius aside so he could join him on the bed. "What'd she get you?" He frowned as Sirius brushed the wrappings onto the floor. "Parchment?"

"I dunno… Hang on, there's a note. 'Sirius,'" he read. "'I know the family's not happy with you right now, so I'm sure they didn't send you anything. Nothing _good_ at any rate. So I wanted to make sure your Christmas was still alright. Ted and I made these when we started dating last year so we could keep in touch. You know it's hard, me being in Slytherin and, well, a Black. Mum would've never let me send him an owl. But I don't need them anymore, since we're graduating this year and getting married. Now you and James can stay in touch this summer. Not that you won't put them to good use before then, I'm sure. Happy Christmas! Andy.'"

"Stay in touch?" James asked, reaching for the parchment.

Sirius took the other piece and turned it over in his hands as he reached for a quill. He smoothed out the parchment and wrote, _Hello_. After a second, the writing disappeared, the ink seeming to seep into the parchment, and reappeared on the piece James held.

"Awesome!" James and Sirius said simultaneously.

-.-.-

They saw Andromeda at the Christmas feast that evening. The Great Hall had been completely redecorated for the holidays with garlands and mistletoe and a dozen enormous trees glowing with candlelight. The four house tables had disappeared, replaced by a single table set for twenty: eleven students, Dumbledore, and most of the professors. James was sad to see that Professor Juniper wasn't among them.

Sirius took the seat next to Andromeda, drawing strange looks from the other two Slytherins sitting across from her – Severus Snape and a fourth year girl James didn't recognize. Ignoring the stares, James sat down beside Sirius.

"Happy Christmas," Andromeda said, smiling at the pair.

Sirius beamed. "Happy Christmas. And thanks. Wish you'd told me though. I'd've gotten you something, too."

"Don't worry about it. I wanted to surprise you. Oh!" She turned to the boy sitting on her other side. "You haven't met Ted yet."

A seventh year Hufflepuff with mousy brown hair and a kind smile leaned forward. "Hello. Sirius, right? Dromeda's told me all about you and…" His eyes flicked to James.

"James Potter."

"I know." There was an amused twinkle in Ted's eye. "First a muggle-born fiancé, and now a Potter for a best mate. What's the House of Black coming to?"

Andromeda and Sirius both laughed, but the Slytherin girl across from Sirius scowled.

"I don't get you," she said, harrumphing. "We're Slytherin! Why on earth would you want to hang around Hufflepuffs and—" She wrinkled her nose. "—Gryffindors?"

"What's wrong with Gryffindor?" James demanded.

Severus had spoken at the same time: "Gryffindors aren't all bad." He paused to exchange a glare with a startled James. "They aren't all self-absorbed, useless morons like these two."

Sirius started to rise in his chair, but Andromeda held him down and turned a curious gaze to Severus. "You're the one who's friends with a Gryffindor, aren't you?" She smiled. "What's her name?"

A vivid red flush crept into Severus' face, and he glanced down at his plate as he mumbled, "Lily Evans."

James snorted. "Her? Why would anyone wanna be friends with _that_ bossy little prat?"

"Shut up!" Severus snarled, his face growing redder. "You – She's—" He seemed unable to form a sentence, but continued to glare at James, his dark eyes blazing.

"You ought to give up on her," the Slytherin girl said. "She's not worth your time."

"Macy!" Andromeda gasped. "That's terrible!"

Macy shrugged. "I guess I can't expect you to understand." She glanced at Ted and dropped her voice low so the professors at the other end of the table wouldn't hear. "You mudblood-loving blood-traitor."

This time, Sirius was on his feet before Andromeda could stop him – though she looked so hurt and angry James doubted she would even try.

"Take it back!" Sirius yelled.

Silence descended on the table like a dementor. Every eye was on Sirius, who shook with fury as he glared at Macy as she plastered a surprised look on her face.

"Take what back?"

"You know what!" Sirius roared, reaching for his wand.

Andromeda grabbed his wrist and squeezed until he looked at her. "Don't, Sirius. It's not worth it."

"Mr. Black." McGonagall's voice was sharp. "Sit down."

James grabbed Sirius' elbow and tugged. Sirius resisted for a moment, then dropped heavily into his seat, still glaring at Macy. The rest of the table watched warily for a moment before turning back to their (now subdued) conversations.

-.-.-

"I can't believe her!"

James lay on his stomach, his new leather journal open on the bed in front of him, watching Sirius pace the dormitory. He'd been ranting about Macy and Snivellus and Slytherins in general (except, of course, Andromeda) since they'd returned to Gryffindor tower over an hour ago.

"Where does she get off?" Sirius continued, stalking to Frank's bed and then spinning on his heel and setting off toward Peter's. "Merlin! Don't know how Andy puts up with all those gits!"

James made a vague sound of sympathy and jotted down another secret passage in his journal.

"I mean, ruddy hell!"

When Sirius fell silent, James glanced up from his list. "You done?"

Sirius glared at him. "Let's go, James."

"Go where?" James asked, but he was already stashing the journal under his mattress.

Sirius shrugged. "Anywhere. I can't sit still right now."

They made their way to the common room and out through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady gave them a strict glare, as usual, but said nothing. Sirius started walking, and James followed, studying his best friend with a frown on his face. He'd never seen Sirius so worked up before, except the day he got the Howler from his mother, and James had to wonder if something more than Macy's comment was getting to him. James held his tongue, however, as Sirius turned his head and James saw the livid fire in his eyes.

They wandered for the next hour in silence. On the first floor, they passed Cobin in a painting of a field dotted with indigo flowers and bathed in brilliant sunshine. The odd, thin man was in high spirits and happily told them that he'd just seen a room full of treasure with his own eyes. "And on Christmas, too! What a gift!" he'd cried, grinning giddily.

James had to smile as he watched the man stagger drunkenly into the next frame, but the encounter had done nothing to brighten Sirius' spirits.

"Something wrong, mate?" James asked as Sirius stormed past the bee tapestry – the fourth secret passage they'd passed so far that night – without so much as a sideways glance.

Sirius snorted. "Of course something's wrong. You heard that girl at dinner!"

"Yeah…" James remained silent as they descended into the dungeons. At length, he found his voice. "There's more, isn't there?"

With a grunt, Sirius turned the corner. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"You sure?"

The glare Sirius shot his way shut James up, if only for a few minutes. Then, as they passed the dungeon where they had Potions, he spoke up again.

"Look, Sirius—"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence, for just then, a figure appeared from a side passage up ahead. James grabbed Sirius by the elbow and dragged him into the shadow of a nearby pillar as the figure turned toward them.

For a long, tense moment, no one moved. The only sound in the dank corridor was the crackling of the torches and the rattle of James' and Sirius' breath. James didn't dare move, not even to release his bruising grip on Sirius' elbow. He felt sure that whoever it was would see them any second now, and the last thing Sirius needed was detention on Boxing Day.

Then the figure started walking. James and Sirius shrank deeper into the pillar's shadow. As the person passed them, James risked a peek and saw that it was Professor Juniper. The small man walked stiffly and wore an odd, distant look, his eyes fixed straight ahead. His gaze never even drifted to the pillar.

When Professor Juniper's footsteps had faded, James relaxed and stepped out of the shadows. Sirius followed, grinning weakly, his moodiness forgotten – at least for now. Without a word, they turned and began the long trek back to Gryffindor Tower.

-.-.-

Two days later, James woke to a persistent tapping somewhere nearby. Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his head to block out the noise, but it wouldn't let up. Reluctantly, James sat up and pulled on his glasses. The tapping came from the window over James' desk, where he could see the silhouette of a large owl pecking at the glass.

James stood up, wincing at the coldness of the stone floor. "Blimey, Luftwing," he said, unlatching the window. "It's the middle of the night." In a flurry of feathers, Luftwing swept into the room, dropped something on James' bed, and settled on his desk. A few feet away, Sirius muttered in his sleep and rolled over.

Luftwing fixed James with an irritated gaze, but he ignored the owl and picked up the brown paper package lying on his comforter. Blowing on his chilled fingers, James tore apart the wrappings, and something tumbled out, something soft and silky, and cool to the touch. Confused, James picked it up. It was a cloak that shimmered silver in the dim light, rippling like water and playing tricks on his eyes. There was a note pinned to the fabric:

James –

Hope you're having a wonderful Christmas. Hogwarts is always a sight this time of year.  
I don't blame you for staying, though it would have been easier if I could have snuck this  
into your trunk over the holidays, like I had planned. Your mother would kill me if she knew  
I'd given it to you.

This cloak has been passed down in our family for generations. My father gave it to me for  
Christmas when I was a first year, just as his father gave it to him. And now it's yours. Use  
it as you see fit, but don't get caught.

Happy Christmas,

Dad

James set the note aside and turned his attention back to the shimmery, silky cloak. Was it what he thought it was? Curious, he draped it over his arm. As soon as the fabric covered it, his arm vanished; James was looking through it at his rumpled maroon bedspread.

"Merlin!" James cried, startling Luftwing, who had settled himself on the desk. Sirius grumbled again, rolling over. Laughing, James jumped onto his bed. "Sirius! Sirius, wake up! Look! Look at what my dad sent me!"

"Gerroff, James," Sirius mumbled. "'s too early."

Grinning, James ducked the groggy punch Sirius sent his way and scrambled to his feet. He threw the cloak around his shoulders, and instantly his body vanished, leaving only his head, floating in midair. "Sirius, _look_!"

Slowly, Sirius rolled over and glared at James. "_What_?" he snapped. A second passed. Sirius' eyes went wide. "Merlin!" Next second, Sirius was on his feet, running his hands over the hem of the cloak, mouth hanging open. "This – This is –"

"An invisibility cloak!"

* * *

**A/N: To anyone who's worried, I haven't forgotten about the two-way mirrors, and Andromeda's gift is in no way intended to replace them. I just have a very particular idea for them, and you'll have to wait to see what that is.**


	13. Cages and Stairs

**Chapter 13: Cages and Stairs**

James and Sirius crouched under the invisibility cloak in the corner of the Entrance Hall behind a gargoyle. It was the fourth of January, the day before classes resumed, shortly before dinner, and judging by the chatter audible through the grand front doors, the carriages carrying students from the Hogsmeade station had just arrived.

A moment later, the first unsuspecting students stepped through the door…

"_Eeek!_"

…and onto the enchanted, icy floor of the Entrance Hall. It had taken James and Sirius the better part of the last two weeks to learn the spell well enough to turn their secret practice room on the fifth floor into a skating rink. But now, as they watched the first dozen or so students slip and fall in a startled heap, James decided that their work had been well worth it.

After the initial pile up, the incoming students approached more cautiously. Some hung back, or clung to the wall and their friends as they attempted to cross the sheet of ice. A fourth year named Bertha Jorkins braved the slick expanse, striding carefully straight into the center of the room – but this was no ordinary ice; Sirius had made sure of that – and Bertha soon wound up flat on her back.

James and Sirius snickered at this – Bertha was a bit of a gossip, and neither boy particularly liked her. But James' eyes soon turned to the rest of the crowd standing in the doorway. They didn't just want to make people fall, after all. They wanted the students to enjoy themselves before a professor came along to put an end to the spell.

Then someone got the hang of it – Rachel Goodwin, a first year Hufflepuff with frizzy brown hair and a band of freckles across her nose, who had just appeared with her friends, took the ice at a run, waving her arms frantically to keep her balance. She slid clear across the hall, bumping into the far wall and regaining her balance with a grin.

"C'mon, Roger! C'mon Scott! You, too, Em!"

The other Hufflepuffs looked wary. A plain boy, who James recognized as Roger Smith, shrank back behind a stiff brunette named Emmaline Vance. "I dunno, Rach," said Roger, peering over Emmaline's shoulder. "It looks dangerous."

But the reedy, long-nosed Scott Adrian grinned and sprinted forward, just as Rachel had. He lost his balance halfway across and slid the rest of the way on his rump, but he arrived beside Rachel howling with laughter. "That's fun! C'mon!"

Not to be outdone by a couple of Hufflepuffs, the Gryffindors gathered in the doorway took to the ice, dragging other students along with them. Soon the Hall was filled with shouts and laughter, the skating rink packed with students enjoying themselves.

Sirius nudged James and pointed to the Prewett twins, who were leaping and spinning – and slipping and falling – like a pair of stupendously inept figure skaters. Laughing, James slipped the invisibility cloak off and into his pocket, and he and Sirius made their way to the twins.

"Having fun?" James asked as Fabian tossed Gideon, who nearly managed to land on his feet, until he tripped over a Ravenclaw seventh year, Dedalus Diggle, and fell flat on his nose.

Fabian lifted an eyebrow at James. "You two?"

James and Sirius merely beamed.

"You've learned well," Gideon said, struggling to his feet. "An excellent welcome back."

"I don't know what you're talking about," James said. "Hey, look! Peter!"

Peter Pettigrew stood near the wall a ways away, struggling to stay on his feet.

Sirius gave the twins a wave. "See you round. Pete!"

Peter whirled at the sound of his name, but the sudden motion caused him to overbalance, and he fell. Laughing, James hurried to his side and helped him up.

"How've you been, Peter?"

Peter shrugged, clinging to James' arm as his feet tried to slide out from under him once more. "F-fine. You?"

James grinned. "Great."

"Busy," Sirius added, with a sweeping gesture to the Entrance Hall-turned-ice rink.

"MR. POTTER! MR. BLACK!"

The clamor in the Hall stopped as McGonagall strode down the broad marble staircase and onto the icy floor, slipped, caught herself on the banister, and straightened, looking a little more flustered. Her stern gaze lighted upon James, who flinched, but forced a smile.

"Yes, Professor?"

Straightening her robes, Professor McGonagall brandished her wand, vanishing the enchanted ice. She ignored the disappointed groans and relieved sighs alike as she crossed the hall to where James, Sirius, and Peter stood. Peter cowered away from her tight frown. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Sirius asked.

McGonagall's hard gaze didn't waver. "You needn't feign innocence, Mr. Black. I know this little prank was courtesy of you and Mr. Potter."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Professor Juniper saw you heading this way not long ago – a bit early for dinner yet, don't you think?"

James tried not to grimace. McGonagall was convinced and, he had to admit, not without reason. Only those students who had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays could have done this, and none of the others were known pranksters. James and Sirius wouldn't be weaseling their way out of this one. Then again, James didn't have to make this easy on her. He grinned. "We just couldn't wait to see our friends, Professor."

Professor McGonagall's gaze flicked to Peter. "Be that as it may, the fact remains that you two are the only ones with the opportunity to have done this."

"Maybe it was Peeves," James argued, still grinning.

"Peeves is not a wizard, Mr. Potter. He did not cast this spell."

"Maybe it was Professor Dumbledore. He likes a bit of fun."

McGonagall looked like she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. "I can assure you, it was not Professor Dumbledore who did this."

James shrugged and opened his mouth.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said before he could speak.

"But—" Sirius began.

"And another five from you, Mr. Black. Someone could have been hurt."

Sirius looked like he was about to protest, but Peter squeaked and seized his arm. Sirius glowered at Peter, but remained silent while McGonagall turned and strode away from them to make sure everyone was unharmed. The other students continued staring at James and Sirius, some glaring, many grinning. Even the Gryffindors, on the whole, seemed to think the fun was worth ten points. This cheered Sirius up, and the three friends turned to make their way into the Great Hall.

-.-.-

After that evening, Hogwarts settled back into its usual rhythm. Remus Lupin was back at school, but he looked so morose the first week and acted so uncharacteristically snappish with Lily Evans, his only friend, that McGonagall arranged for him to spend the weekend with his still-ailing mother. Upon his return the following Tuesday afternoon just before Herbology, a blushing Remus mumbled an apology to Lily, who gave him a smile and a quick hug and said of course she didn't blame him and wouldn't anyone be a bit short-tempered if his mother were ill?

That didn't appear to mollify Remus, who avoided her gaze for the rest of class and vanished ("to catch up on homework") as soon as Professor Sprout released them. Lily looked like she wanted to go after him, but Alice Howard stopped her.

"He probably just needs some time alone."

Lily worried her lip a moment, staring in the direction Remus had gone. "I know, it's just… he _has_ missed a lot with visiting his mother and all. I should help him."

"Go right ahead, Evans," James called. "With you two prats busy snogging, maybe we'll finally have some peace!"

With a huff, Lily grabbed Alice's arm. "Let's go."

"Good riddance," Sirius muttered as the two girls disappeared into the school. "C'mon. Let's see if the twins have any good plans going."

-.-.-

Gideon and Fabian, of course, had plenty of plans in the works, and eagerly set James, Sirius, and occasionally Peter to work preparing. Most of the school now regarded the James and Sirius as Prewetts-in-the-making and eyed them suspiciously whenever they wandered the halls by themselves or with Peter.

Not that James minded. Those with a sense of humor remained friendly enough, and James frankly didn't care what the others thought.

The first big prank was planned for Friday, the twelfth of February, and James could hardly wait. By Tuesday, everything was ready, and on Wednesday, James fidgeted through his classes, which seemed to pass impossibly slowly. His potion turned out worse than usual, and in Herbology, he pruned of half his glimmerweed's buds before he realized what he was doing.

After lunch, the first year Gryffindors trudged up to Defense Against the Dark Arts and took their seats. James barely had time to realize that Professor Juniper wasn't yet there before—

A sound like fingernails on a chalkboard made the whole class cringe, and James clapped his hands over his ears as he turned to search for the source of the horrendous noise – Peeves, he supposed. That thought fled his mind, however, as his eyes fell on the rows of cages along the far wall, which held the creatures Professor Juniper used in upper level Defense classes – tiny blue Cornish pixies, scraggly Kappas, wispy Hinkypunks, and dwarfish Red Caps.

These creatures were no longer confined to their cages.

It took a few moments for the other students to realize that the glass and mesh of the cages had disappeared (it didn't help that James sat slack-jawed for several long seconds, rather than calling out a warning), but once they did, they started to scream.

The room erupted into chaos. The pixies pulled on Greta Catchlove's long blonde hair and tried to steal James' glasses; he only managed to snatch them back after a quick hex drove them off. Others opted for straight-forward attacks, lunging at the nearest students. A Kappa's bony fingers wrapped around Mary Macdonald's neck, making her face turn purple and her eyes bulge. Lily Evans dove toward her, wrestling with the Kappa, but a stout Red Cap noticed her distraction and lunged, raising the desk leg it had snapped off to use as a bludgeon – Remus Lupin shoved Lily aside – the Red Cap swung down.

James lost sight of them in the chaos and raised his wand to ward off the swarm of Cornish pixies.

In a flurry of robes, Professor Juniper was there, wand flashing. The creatures hissed and squealed as Professor Juniper drove them back. James and Sirius, the only students in fighting condition who hadn't yet fled, joined him in corralling the creatures back to the cages, where Juniper replaced the glass and wire mesh.

At last, the room was still, the only sounds that of ragged breathing and moans of pain. Professor Juniper leaned on his desk for a brief moment, then turned on James and Sirius with dark eyes.

"…Professor?" James asked warily, as Juniper's silence stretched on.

Something flickered in the man's dark eyes. "Go," he said, voice rough and raw.

"What?"

"Go! Tell Madam Pomfrey what happened. I'm afraid her services are needed here."

James followed Professor Juniper's gaze toward the fallen students, but Juniper grabbed his shoulders and spun him around before he could recognize any of his classmates. Sirius dragged him into the hall, and they took off for the Hospital Wing at a sprint.

"Are either of you hurt?" Madam Pomfrey after their jumbled recollection. When both boys shook their head, she nodded curtly. "Get to your common room, then. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be there shortly."

And then she was gone, sweeping off toward the Defense corridor, leaving James and Sirius, shell-shocked, in the empty Hospital Wing. After a few moments, they gathered their wits and left.

-.-.-

After dinner, James sat on his bed, fiddling with the hem of his robe to avoid looking at the three empty beds. Remus was still in the Hospital Wing, along with Frank Longbottom, Alexander Thorne, and several of their female classmates. The Astronomy class at midnight had been cancelled in light of the afternoon's mishap.

"Who d'you suppose did it?" Sirius lay on his bed, staring up at the maroon canopy.

James shrugged.

Peter peered over the pillow he was hugging to his chest. "You mean it wasn't you?"

"Of course not!" Sirius snapped. Peter flinched.

With a sigh, James stood and began to pace the room. "I'll bet you anything it was a Slytherin's idea of a prank."

"You think?" Peter asked.

"Who else could it be?" Sirius tucked his hands behind his head. "They probably think it's ruddy brilliant to hurt people for a laugh."

James nodded. "The only question is… who?"

"Cissy and Malfoy?" Sirius suggested. "They hate me enough."

"They hate _us_ enough," James corrected with a grin. But the grin quickly faded, and he shook his head. "But _we_ didn't get hurt."

Sirius shrugged. "So we're better than they expected."

"And the others?"

"You think they care if a couple of Gryffindors get hurt?"

James could only grunt. He wouldn't put this past any Slytherin, and Narcissa and Lucius certainly had enough skill and malice to turn dark creatures loose on a roomful of first years. He just didn't know how they'd managed it.

There was a silence in which Peter eyed his friends with an expression of uncertainty. At length, he found his voice. "So… w-what now?"

-.-.-

What now, indeed? James and Sirius spent the next few hours tossing around ideas for retaliatory pranks, continuing their discussion all through dinner. Peter watched with interest, as did Alexander, who returned from the Hospital Wing around seven. By the time Frank joined them at ten, James and Sirius were no nearer a decision than when they started. Sirius wanted to prank Narcissa and Lucius, while James thought it would be better to prank the Slytherins in general, as Narcissa and Lucius had not been so discerning with their plan.

There was no lasting harm, however, for although Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep Remus and Mary overnight, both joined their Transfiguration class the next day.

The school soon forgot about the incident, but James and Sirius did not. They still disagreed about how best to exact their vengeance, and so they compromised by hexing Narcissa and Lucius whenever they saw them, and collaborating with Gideon and Fabian to make sure the Slytherins' desserts exploded on Valentine's Day, turning every last greasy hair fuchsia, every inch of exposed skin lavender.

"You think they've given up?" James asked a few weeks later while they practiced the fire-making spell in Charms. James and Sirius, having taught themselves ages ago, sat in the back of the room idly igniting candles and scraps of parchment while Lily Evans shot them glares from the front row. ("Not used to someone being better than her, eh?")

Sirius frowned. "I guess they _might_ have given up…"

"Why aren't you happy about that?" Peter asked, poking his simmering wick.

"Like this, Pete," James said, demonstrating the charm again. "_Incendio_."

"I don't trust it." Sirius crossed his arms. "They're planning something. I know they are!"

As Peter tried his charm again, James shot Sirius a curious look. "Like what?"

Sirius never got the chance to answer, for just then, a spray of icy cold water shot out of Peter's wand, dousing the trio and the pair of girls unfortunate enough to be sitting near them, who squealed in surprise and indignation.

-.-.-

Another week passed before anything happened.

Tuesday after Herbology, the Gryffindors parted ways with the Hufflepuffs in the Entrance Hall and began the trek up toward the common room. As they reached the third floor, they passed the first year Ravenclaws, who had just left Charms and were headed down to Potions.

"Yes, well, if you need me…"

"_Thank_ you, Mr. Lockhart." Professor Flitwick sounded harried, and given who he seemed to be talking to, James couldn't blame the diminutive man. He tugged on Sirius' arm, and the two picked up their pace in hopes of getting away before they were spotted. "However, you and I both have somewhere to be at the moment, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Of course, of course," Gilderoy Lockhart said. "Just—"

"_Gilderoy_," came the calm voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "We'll be late."

"Hurry," James hissed. He and Sirius reached the landing and turned to bolt down the hall, but—

"James! Sirius!"

James cringed, but stopped midstride and turned with a pained smile. "Hello, Gilderoy." His smile turned sympathetic as he added, "Hey, Kingsley."

Kingsley nodded curtly. "Gilderoy…"

"One moment, Kingsley." Gilderoy waved his hand dismissively. "Professor Slughorn will understand if we're a few moments late."

Kingsley sighed.

"So, James, Sirius," Gilderoy said amicably. "Quite the stars of the school, wouldn't you say? What with all these pranks you've been pulling lately."

"S'pose so," James said, glancing toward the retreating figures of Frank, Alexander, and Peter.

"Got anything else in the works?"

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe," he said dully.

Gilderoy smiled conspiratorially and waggled his delicate eyebrows. "Right. Well, if you ever need help bringing a plan to fruition, you know where to find me."

"Right," James said. "Got it."

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Gilderoy. Potions."

Just then, a scream, a gasp, and a tremendous crash echoed up the stairs. At once, the four boys turned and sprinted down to the second floor landing, where the Ravenclaws stood in a huddle. Lana Lalita stood sobbing into Thalia Overmann's shoulder, and Edwin Dorcas turned to sprint back up the stairs, shouting for help.

James looked beyond the shaken knot to the bottom of the next flight of stairs. Chris Stebbins and Margaret Thurgood lay in a heap, immobile. There was a red sheen on the floor around Margaret's head.

"What happened?" Kingsley demanded, descending the last few steps to where his housemates stood. They turned, but none seemed put-together enough to answer him.

Suddenly, Gilderoy shook himself out of his stupor and thundered down the stairs, past the Ravenclaws, and on to the next flight. "No worries!"

"No," Lana said a little thickly. "Gidleroy, wait!"

But it was too late. The first years looked on in horror as Gilderoy's foot hit the first step and slid out from under him. He had time for a short, shocked cry, before his head hit the stone with a sharp crack. He went limp and tumbled down the stairs, coming to a stop beside Chris and Margaret and lying still.

James hurried forward, Sirius half a second behind him. Kingsley held out a hand to stop them before they joined the other three at the foot of the stairs, but James didn't need the warning. He approached the stairs cautiously and knelt down. He ran his fingers along the stair and stiffened.

"Ice?" he hissed in surprise.

"What?" Sirius knelt swiftly beside James and extended his own hand. With a sharp intake of breath, Sirius snatched his hand back and gave James a meaningful look. "That's…"

James shushed him and stood as footsteps rumbled down the stairs toward them. Edwin, red in the face and gasping for breath, trundled along behind Professor Flitwick, whose face in contrast was powder white.

"Stand back," Professor Flitwick said breathlessly, pulling the dumbstruck students back from the stairs.

"Professor, the stair," Kingsley said, pointing.

Nodding, Professor Flitwick bent to examine the stair, frowned, and flicked his wand. Then he hurried down the de-iced stairs, followed nervously by the first years, and examined the fallen students. Chris Stebbins groaned and stirred at his touch, and Gilderoy tried to sit up, but Flitwick held him down.

"Mr. Shacklebolt," Professor Flitwick said, conjuring three stretchers. "Go and tell Madam Pomfrey she has three patients coming." Kingsley nodded and sprinted off, taking the stairs two at a time. With a wave of his wand, Flitwick lifted the stretchers into the air and turned to follow.

"Merlin's beard!"

James whirled to see Professor Juniper in a doorway, face flushed, robes askew. He tucked something into his pocket and smoothed his robes as he hurried forward.

"What happened?" Juniper asked, dark eyes darting from Professor Flitwick to the students lying in the stretchers to the ashen-faced first years looking on. "No, no. Tell me on the way."

They vanished down the stairs after Kingsley, Flitwick's low murmur lingering a few seconds after they passed out of sight. Then the landing fell into numb silence. James grabbed Sirius' arm and dragged him away, ducking into a nearby secret passage. Once there, they stopped and stared at each other. James ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Blimey, Sirius, that was our spell."

"I know," Sirius murmured, crossing his arms and fixing his gaze at a point on the stone wall beside James' knees.

"It was the _same spell_!" James continued, hardly registering Sirius' words. He turned and began to pace. "The exact same spell we used at the start of term!"

Sirius didn't move. "They're trying to frame us."

"What?"

"They're trying to frame us," Sirius repeated, voice harsh. "Maybe they figure if they pin something like this on us, we'll get expelled."

James stopped pacing, spinning instead to fix Sirius with a wide-eyed stare. "_What_? Frame us? B-but… They can't do that!"

With a humorless laugh, Sirius met James' panicked eyes with a guarded look. "Can't? Bloody hell, James! They already have!"


	14. The Accusation

**Chapter 14: The Accusation**

Word spread quickly at Hogwarts. By the time James and Sirius descended to the Great Hall for dinner that evening, everyone had heard about the accident on the stairs. James noticed the empty seats at the Ravenclaw table with a sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach and picked at his food. He stared at his plate, hardly hearing the chatter around him until everyone fell silent.

He looked up to see olive-skinned Lana Lalita standing over him, her deep brown eyes glistening with moisture, her normally sleek black hair disheveled.

"Oh, er… hi," James said, squirming in his seat.

The Ravenclaw girl stiffened. "Hi?" she snarled. "_Hi?_"

Casting around for some clue what he'd done wrong, James smiled feebly. "Er… hello?"

"Margaret could have _died_!" Lana shrieked, her eyes blazing. "And all you can say is _hello_?"

Sirius glanced up at her in alarm. "What do you want to hear?"

"Oh _I don't know_," she seethed, rounding on Sirius with such ferocity that he cringed and ducked behind Frank Longbottom, who sat beside him. "How about _sorry_?"

"Sorry?" James' jaw dropped open. "We didn't do this!"

SMACK!

Lana brought her open palm across James' cheek and glared at him, nostrils flaring. "DON'T LIE!"

"I'M NOT!" James lurched to his feet, face stinging, and crossed his arms. "Look, I'm sorry they got hurt, but we _didn't_ do it!"

"Yeah, right! There was ice on that stair!"

Sirius was on his feet too, hands balled into fists at his side. "Like no one else could have done that!"

Lana sprang toward him with a cry of rage – but Professor Flitwick suddenly appeared between them, struggling to hold the girl in place. "Miss Lalita! Calm down – please!"

"They hurt her!" Lana protested, blinking back tears. "It was them!"

"Is that so?" McGonagall asked, appeared suddenly behind James and Sirius.

James spun around. "It wasn't us, Professor! I swear!"

McGonagall regarded him coolly, then turned her eyes to Lana. "Miss Lalita, do you have any proof of their involvement?"

"Well…" Lana hesitated. "No, but—"

"Then I would suggest you not jump to any conclusions just yet."

James sighed in relief.

McGonagall's eyes flicked back to him. "That being said… Mr. Potter, Mr. Black. I would like to see you in my office."

"What?" James cried.

"But—!" Sirius protested.

Professor McGonagall ignored them both. "_Now_."

Lana looked immensely pleased as the two boys turned and trudged out of the hall after McGonagall, who refused to speak or even look at them until they reached her office and sat on the stools she conjured.

"Professor McGonagall," Sirius began, perching on the very edge of his stool. "You've got to—"

McGonagall held up her hand for silence. "I cannot presume to know exactly what happened this afternoon on the south stairs – _nor_ would I like to hear your account just now, Mr. Potter," she added as James opened his mouth to speak. "You are not in trouble, yet. I could not prove your involvement even if I believed you to be guilty."

"You – you don't think it was us?" James gasped, leaning forward eagerly.

"No." McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "Or rather, I know that to this point, your pranks have not resulted in any significant bodily harm, and I am therefore giving you two the benefit of the doubt. _However_." She paused, giving them both a hard stare. "This was not an accident."

James frowned. Of course it wasn't; he'd seen the ice on that stair. But he decided to feign ignorance. "What do you mean, Professor?"

Sighing, Professor McGonagall removed her glasses and pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Someone cast a Freezing Charm on that stair. If either of you have any idea who may be responsible, I would appreciate the information."

"I have no idea," Sirius said at once, though his expression darkened, and James knew he was thinking of his cousin and her boyfriend. Perhaps he doubted their guilt or, more likely, he knew McGonagall would not listen to his accusation without proof.

James closed his eyes and tried to think. He and Sirius had been the last of the Gryffindors to climb the stairs where the charm had been cast, and he hadn't noticed anyone around at the time. Just a few minutes later, the Ravenclaws had arrived, and Margaret Thurgood and Chris Stebbins had taken a spill. Not long for someone to sneak out, charm the stair, and vanish again.

Shaking his head, James said, "Sorry Professor, but I really don't know who could have done it."

"Very well." Professor McGonagall waved her hand toward the door. "You may go."

-.-.-

When James opened the door to the first year boys' dormitory, he was met with such a sudden, electric silence that he knew the others must have been talking about him. For a moment, he wavered in the doorway, contemplating turning and walking right back down the stairs, but Sirius was behind him and gave him a nudge. Sighing, James crossed the room, ignoring the stares that came his way.

Sirius, in contrast, chose to meet them head on. "What?" he snapped, stopping in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, his gray eyes flashing from one boy to another. When none answered him, he snorted, crossed to his bed, and muttered darkly to himself. James caught the words "cowards," "gossip," and "some friends" before Sirius dissolved into silence.

James sat heavily on his bed and scanned the room warily. Frank Longbottom sat upright on the edge of his bed, staring at his shoes with a deep frown on his face. Behind him, Alexander Thorne busied himself with a stack of parchment that rustled noisily as he rifled through it, his eyes straying toward James and Sirius every few seconds. Peter sat very far back on his bed, perhaps trying to hide behind his bed curtains, and met James' eyes nervously. And Remus Lupin, as usual, was reading a book and seemed completely unaware of the tension in the room.

"So," James said heavily, and everyone looked at him. Even Remus glanced up, however briefly. James hesitated. He didn't know where to go from here. "I don't know what you've heard…"

It was Remus who spoke, his eyes gazing steadily at the page before him. "They're saying you're the ones who landed those Ravenclaws in the Hospital Wing."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as every eye turned to Remus. The scarred boy flipped a page and remained silent.

"Is that right?" Sirius growled, eyes narrowing.

Remus didn't answer.

"I suppose you believe them?"

James frowned at Sirius, hoping he didn't let his frustration get the better of him. "We didn't do anything," James said firmly, meeting everyone's eye. Frank and Alexander quickly broke eye contact, and Remus looked back blandly, but Peter nodded.

"I believe you," the nervous boy said softly.

James beamed at him. "Thanks."

"But Peter," Frank said slowly, avoiding James' and Sirius' glares. "They've used that charm before. Remember?"

"What does _that_ matter?" Sirius demanded.

Biting his lip, Peter picked at a thread on his sleeve. "They wouldn't hurt anyone. You know they wouldn't." He hesitated. "They… they helped me when the Slytherins were picking on me. They _wouldn't_…"

Frank dropped his gaze. "I know," he said thickly. "I'm sure they didn't mean to—"

"Didn't _mean to_?" Sirius sprang to his feet, face twisted with rage. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Sirius," James said softly, standing to place a hand on his best friend's shoulder. He turned to Frank. "Believe what you want," he said coldly. "We didn't cast that spell."

"Then who did?" Alexander asked, speaking for the first time. When Sirius rounded on him, he held up his hand. "I'm not saying it was you! I… I don't know what happened. I just want to know who to look out for."

James sighed. "We don't know either."

"Yes we do," Sirius argued. "It was Cissy and Malfoy."

"Who?" Frank asked.

"Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy."

Alexander's eyes widened. "The Slytherin prefects? But… I mean – they're _prefects_! They wouldn't…"

"Wanna bet?" Sirius growled. "They're capable of some pretty rotten things. I wouldn't put this past them."

Frank remained unconvinced. "I didn't see them anywhere around."

"They aren't stupid." Sirius shook his head, eyes straying to _Notable Wizarding Families_, which had been shoved under his bed and forgotten since Christmas morning, but whose dusty green spine peeked out from under the blankets. "They would've made sure no one saw them."

"Whoever it was—" James spoke slowly and firmly— "it wasn't us. Okay?"

Peter nodded vigorously, Alexander a bit more hesitantly; Frank frowned but didn't protest, and Remus turned another page in his book. James shrugged and turned toward Sirius. He jerked his head toward his bed and sat down. Sirius kicked _Notable Wizarding Families_ viciously, and the book skidded across the floor, striking the nightstand with a thud.

"Sirius," James muttered.

But Sirius ignored him, frowning, and strode over to pick up the book.

"Sirius?"

Not taking his eyes from the book, Sirius shuffled over to James' bed, sat down, and tugged the curtains closed.

"_Quietus_," James murmured. Though the charm was normally employed to counter the voice amplification charm _Sonorus_, the Prewett twins had shown James and Sirius how to use it on walls or bed curtains to reduce the amount of noise that would pass through. "They'll see," he said. "They're just scared. They aren't thinking."

He stopped. Sirius didn't seem to be paying attention. He had opened _Notable Wizarding Families_ to a page near the back, where a piece of loose parchment lay on the page that read _Weasley_. Sirius picked up the parchment and unfolded it, setting the book down absently.

"Sirius?"

Sirius looked up, stared dumbly at James, and turned his eyes back to the page. "It's from Regulus."

"What?"

"Regulus," Sirius said. "My brother. He wrote a letter and stuck it in here." Sirius gestured to the page, did a double take, and laughed. "Weasley. Of course. My parents'd never look there. Blood-traitors, every last one." He said this last bit with a note of fondness that, any other day, would have made James laugh.

Eyebrows furrowing, James stared at the parchment in Sirius' hand. "What's it say? Er – if you don't mind my asking."

For a moment, Sirius didn't say anything, but regarded James thoughtfully. Then he nodded and began to read.

Dear Sirius,

Happy Christmas!

I wish I could send you a real present, but Mum and Dad won't let me. They say you need this  
book . You should've heard them when Cissy's owl came at the start of term saying  
you'd been Sorted into Gryffindor. And then they heard you made friends with a Potter. (Speaking  
of – I don't think they read what this book says about the Potters. They wouldn't send it if they  
knew.) Anyway, if you're trying to get blasted off the family tree, you're spot on.

Be careful, Sirius, okay? I want you home in one piece.

Anyway, things are pretty normal around here, when we aren't getting owls saying you've got  
another detention for hexing Cissy and Lucius. I think if you lie low for the rest of the year,  
Mum and Dad might forget about being angry. I mean, they can't hold your Sorting against you  
too long, right? It's over and done with now. And if you don't talk about Potter (Sorry, I know it's  
rude to call him that, but Mum and Dad won't say his first name) they'll forgive you for that, too.

I miss you. It's lonely being here all alone. Mum and Dad are always off with their friends and  
hosting grown-up parties and sending me upstairs so the adults can talk. I've only got Kreacher  
to keep me company, and you know how he is. I mean, I like him alright, but he's not you. I  
can't wait till I go to Hogwarts next year, so we can be together again.

Write me back?

Love,

Regulus

When Sirius finished reading, he fell silent and reread the letter silently, a small smile on his face. "Good to hear _someone_ still likes me okay," he muttered when he finished.

"_I_ like you okay," James reminded him.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But you aren't my family – as much as I wish you were – and… it's just nice to know my brother doesn't think I'm a no-good, rotten blood-traitor. He's not so bad, you know," he added, glancing up with something like a plea on his face. "If he gets away from my parents, he might even turn out as good as Andy."

"Not as good as _you_?"

"Nah." Sirius took great care in refolding his brother's letter and tucking it in between the chapters that covered the Trelawneys and the Weasleys. "I'd rather he didn't turn out like me. I'm fine with my parents hating me, but Reg… It'd be better for him to defy tradition quietly until he's older."

James frowned. "So, you don't want your brother to be in Gryffindor?"

With a heavy sigh, Sirius shook his head. "As much as I'd love to have him in the house… no. Maybe Ravenclaw, though. My parents wouldn't hate _that_ so much."

An awkward silence stretched between them until Sirius flipped through the old book to the page that read, "Potter." James scooted closer to read over his shoulder.

The Potters are an old and influential wizarding family, whose ancestry can be traced back to the  
late twelfth century. Despite a history of intermarrying with other pureblood families, the Potters  
have not disowned those who chose less prestigious partners.

After trials and attempted executions of witches and wizards by muggles declined in the seventeenth  
and eighteenth century, the Potters joined the muggle protection movement and became some of  
the most important advocates of muggle-born magical education. This resulted in some conflict  
between the Potters and other wizarding families, such as the Blacks (p. 12) and the Gaunts (p. 154).  
Nevertheless, the Potters as a rule have considered muggle-borns and half-bloods to be on equal  
standing with pure-bloods.

Through the generations, Potters have attained great popularity and renown in the magical world for  
a large number of notable deeds. They have historically attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and  
Wizardry and been sorted into Gryffindor, and are widely considered exemplars of the traits for  
which Gryffindor is known: courage, honor, and selflessness.

The book proceeded to list a great number of famous Potters, some of whom James' father had told him about, some whose name James had never heard. The list went on for some twenty pages – not the longest chapter in the book, they saw when they turned to the table of contents, but nearly twice the length of the Black chapter. James and Sirius had a good laugh about that and spent the next several hours chatting cheerfully, their dormmates' distrust all but forgotten.


	15. What She Deserves

**Chapter 15: What She Deserves**

If the Gryffindors looked at James and Sirius with wary hesitation, it was nothing compared to the rest of the school. The Ravenclaws now travelled in packs and gave the two pranksters a wide berth in the corridors. Their whispers and glares struck James like blows, and he had never been happier that he had no classes with them. Only Gilderoy Lockhart still treated them kindly, but James rather wished he didn't. It was more annoying than anything, since his kind words always had the ring of insults, and his friendliness drew even more glares from his housemates.

The Hufflepuffs refrained from any open hostility, which made James grateful. Unfortunately, they often opted to ignore the pair, refusing to meet their eyes or engage in conversation with them. It drove Sirius crazy, and Herbology classes quickly became as tense an ordeal as Potions, as the Hufflepuffs all took seats as far from James and Sirius as possible.

Worst of all were the Slytherins, who alternated between taunting remarks that expulsion was in their future, and snide congratulations for a job well done. Every Potions lecture collapsed into the same pattern: a Slytherin, usually Avery or Mulciber, would ask James and Sirius in a whisper who their next target was and whether they could join in, saying that so-and-so deserved a good thrashing. Sirius would respond that the only ones deserving any such thing were the Slytherins themselves. There would be an exchange of insults that usually ended in someone drawing a wand or James lobbing a dungbomb into a simmering cauldron, and Professor Slughorn would step in with a detention for whomever had been the most obviously out of line.

The pervasive air of suspicion hung so thick around the school that James found he couldn't even properly enjoy Gryffindor's victory in the match against Hufflepuff in early March, which put them neck-and-neck with Ravenclaw for the Quidditch Cup.

But James and Sirius could at least take comfort in their few steadfast supporters. Peter believed them from the beginning, and soon convinced Alexander Thorne that they were telling the truth. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, too, accepted their innocence without question.

"You're pranksters," Gideon reasoned, "not Slytherins."

"Besides which," Fabian added with a grin. "You know better than to pull the same prank twice."

The Professors, too, remained neutral, though they cracked down harder than normal on any disruptions James and Sirius caused. Sirius was inclined to step up their troublemaking out of defiance, but James talked him out of it. If they wanted to prove to the school that they hadn't hurt the Ravenclaws – on purpose or accidentally – they had best not reinforce their prankster nature. At least not for a good few weeks.

Saturdays grew dull in the wake of the supposed prank. James was not yet ready to pull an _actual_ prank, and so he was stuck wandering the castle with an irritated Sirius.

"I'm bored."

James rolled his eyes. "What do you want to do?"

"Prank someone," Sirius said with a shrug.

"I've told you, Sirius. It's too soon."

"Well I'm tired of cowering in a corner because we might get in trouble!"

Sighing, James ducking into a secret passage that would take him down to the third floor. "Fine," he snapped. "Go pull a prank. Get yourself expelled, see if I care."

Sirius walked in sullen silence for some time.

"Sorry," James muttered at last.

"'s alright."

James stopped walking, turning to face Sirius. "Look, I want to do something, too, but half the school's still not talking to us."

"Yeah, I know." Sirius drew in a deep breath. "This stinks."

James had to agree, and they continued on in silence, emerging on the third floor and turning toward the stairs. A few minutes later, they passed a huddle of Slytherins coming from the library, and James overheard one of them mention a familiar name.

"…Andromeda, and that mudblood boyfriend of hers," said a sallow-faced seventh year named Alecto Carrow, a hag of a girl with lank coppery hair and a squashed nose.

Her brother, Amycus, a sixth year with close-cropped dark brown hair and an extremely square jaw grinned maliciously. "Wish I could've seen it. They said it was horrible, that she screamed bloody murder!"

The Slytherins all cackled at that, but James and Sirius stopped dead, exchanged apprehensive glances, and whirled back toward the stairs. Sirius seemed to have the same sickening suspicion as James, for he bolted down to the first floor and straight toward the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey looked up as they stumbled in, panting. "What—?"

But James and Sirius ignored her, turning their eyes instead to the two patients lying on beds in the back corner of the room. Andromeda lay flat on her back, breathing shallowly, her skin an angry red and her brown hair a matted, sopping mess that fanned out below her on the pillow. Madam Pomfrey leaned over her, a flagon of thick yellow solution in one hand, her wand in the other.

On the next bed over, fair-haired Ted Tonks lay propped up on a mound of pillows. His skin was also inflamed, though not as much as Andromeda's. A flask with a few swallows of blue liquid left in the bottom sat on the table beside him, steaming. His eyes were closed, but as Sirius took a step forward, Ted stirred.

Blinking, he turned and caught sight of them. "Well, if it isn't James Potter and the wayward Black." He chuckled, began to cough, and reached for the potion on the bedside table. With some difficulty, he swallowed and leaned against the pillows.

Madam Pomfrey looked up from her work on Andromeda and frowned. "You need to finish all of it, Mr. Tonks."

Ted made a face, but raised the flask to his lips once more. When Madam Pomfrey took her eyes off him, he lowered it without drinking. Sirius crossed to Ted's bed, and James followed, pulling a chair up beside the one Sirius sat down on.

"Tastes like sour milk," Ted whispered, giving the flask a shake and eyeing it warily. "But Madam Pomfrey said I inhaled a lot of smoke." He coughed and wheezed again, and took another drink. "I'm rather inclined to believe her."

"What happened?" James asked, at the same time that Sirius asked, "Will Andy be alright?"

Ted's eyes slid to Andromeda's bed, and he frowned. "Madam Pomfrey said it'll take a while, but she'll recover." He fell silent, eyes clouding. "And I don't know what happened. We were… We were down in the dungeons with Professor Slughorn, working on a potion."

"On a Saturday?" Sirius asked, incredulous.

With a pained chuckle, Ted drew his eyes away from Andromeda. "We have our NEWTS at the end of the year," he explained. "I'd like to become a Healer after this, and Dromeda decided to take it with me, since she had the grades and some room in her schedule."

Sirius wrinkled his nose, and James rolled his eyes. "So you were studying," he said before Sirius could speak. "Then what?"

"I don't know." Ted screwed his eyes up in thought. "We did just what the instructions said… I'm a – well, I'm a decent potioneer, I reckon, though I… I suppose I might have done something wrong…. It wasn't an easy potion….

"Anyway, we'd just added the powdered Doxy wings when out of nowhere the cauldron exploded."

James' eyes flicked over to Andromeda.

"Exploded?" Sirius asked, alarmed.

Ted nodded. "I turn my back for one minute to grab the snapweed shoots, and then…" He trailed off, coughed, and cringed as Madam Pomfrey turned on him.

"What did I tell you about finishing that potion, Mr. Tonks?"

As soon as his coughing fit subsided, Ted downed the last of the steaming blue potion. "Ugh. Well, as I said, I turned my back, and then I heard this horrid noise, like a grenade – sorry," he added. "Muggle contraption. Like a big explosion, and a sizzling sound, and then Dromeda was screaming." He shuddered.

Madam Pomfrey tutted and looked up from Andromeda once more. "Don't upset my patient, young men. I may just ask you to leave."

"No, it's alright," Ted assured her, squaring his shoulders. "Some of the potion hit me, too." He raised his arms so they could see the red splotches. "It felt like acid – strong acid – I haven't a clue why. It was supposed to be a wit-sharpening potion, and it was nearly done, but… if you tried to drink whatever was in that cauldron, you'd die, quick as spit."

With a sigh, Ted dropped his hand back onto the blankets that covered him. "Dromeda got the worst of it – she was standing between me and the cauldron, so I only got hit with a bit of splash and the smoke – the cauldron was smoking something awful. It was melting like… I don't know. Like it was made of wax instead of pewter. And there were these weird green sparks shooting from the mess. Not normal sparks, but… I don't know, I didn't have time to think about it. I got one whiff of that smoke and nearly blacked out. Thank heavens Professor Slughorn was there, or I don't know what would've happened. He vanished the cauldron, and the smoke, and the potion on our skin and clothes all in one go, then brought us up here."

A frown had been growing deeper and deeper on Sirius' face the whole time he spoke, and now he spoke up. "You think someone might have sabotaged you?"

James sucked in a breath. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. Potions were finicky at the best of times, and one or two first years had been sent to Madam Pomfrey for minor healing. If beginners' potions mishaps could inflict minor burns and boils, James could only imagine what the slightest mistake at NEWT level would do.

"Sabotage?" Ted murmured, staring at the ceiling for several seconds as he considered this. "I don't think so…"

"Was there anyone else in the dungeon with you?" Sirius pressed.

Ted nodded. "A few other seventh years. Two or three Ravenclaws, and a Slytherin, Julian Stenwick. But he was clear across the room," he added swiftly as Sirius opened his mouth. "It must have been a mistake… I-I must have added t-too much Doxy wing or… or something."

Ted had grown very pale as he spoke, and, breath coming in shallow gasps, he swiped at his eyes. Madam Pomfrey saw this and shooed James and Sirius out of the Hospital Wing, grumbling about them upsetting her patient when he really needed rest and quiet and none of this stress or excitement.

The doors closed softly, but decisively, behind them, and James stared at them. Behind him, Sirius swore loudly and kicked the wall.

"He blames himself," James murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It was that Stenwick fellow!" Sirius seethed, beginning to pace. "Probably a friend of Malfoy's. Bastards! How could they do something like this?"

James shook his head. "All to get back at us?" he asked, ignoring Sirius' ranting. It didn't make sense. Setting the dark creatures on the Gryffindors? Sure, Sirius and James himself could have been the real targets, and Lucius and Narcissa wouldn't care about the collateral. Framing them for the prank on the Ravenclaws? Okay, a little roundabout, but Slytherins were all about cunning, after all. James wouldn't put it past them.

But this? Landing Ted and Andromeda in the Hospital Wing just to get at a couple of first year Gryffindors? It didn't feel right.

"C'mon, James," Sirius growled. "We've got to do something."

"Against a seventh year?" James snorted. "Not likely."

Sirius shook his head. "We've done it before."

"We aren't going to be able to trick another Howler out of Stenwick's parents," James argued.

"Fine!" Sirius stopped pacing to glare at James. "Then let's go to the source."

"Malfoy and your cousin?" James paused, noticing that Sirius was clutching his wand. A vein in the back of his hand throbbed slightly, and his eyes flashed dangerously. James frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!"

_Sure it's not._ "I haven't seen you this worked up since Christmas."

Sirius flinched, but said nothing.

James crossed his arms.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sirius…"

"I said—"

Holding up a hand, James fixed Sirius with a hard stare. Sirius fidgeted and fell silent. A moment later, James smirked. "Tell me why you're so eager to take on Narcissa and Malfoy and I'll help you."

Sirius looked suspicious for a long moment, but eventually he sighed and nodded. "Alright, fine. C'mon."

-.-.-

Sirius led James back to their dormitory. Frank sat at his desk, working on an essay Professor Flitwick had set them, so James and Sirius situated themselves on Sirius' bed and drew the curtains closed. James murmured "_Quietus_" while Sirius retrieved two crumpled scrolls of parchment from under his mattress.

He thrust them toward James. "The first one's from Christmas," he muttered, avoiding James' probing glances. "It came with the book they sent me. I just got the second one yesterday."

James saw that the pages were two immensely long letters addressed to Sirius from his mother. James furrowed his brow. Sirius must have realized his mother hated him. Why would he bother reading her letters? Why would he keep them under his mattress?

Pushing his questions aside, James began to read. The first letter was a long rant that reminded James of the Howler Sirius had received the day after the Sorting. It was filled with insults and threats of punishment awaiting Sirius when he returned home for the summer holidays, and it took every bit of James' restraint not to tear the letter up into tiny shreds and light them on fire.

After nearly a foot of this abuse, Mrs. Black turned her quill on James, ranting about "that vile Potter boy you call a friend." It was obvious the woman thought James a poor influence on her son and an even poorer excuse for a wizard, and she employed a great deal of colorful language to express her displeasure.

Rolling his eyes, James skimmed this section and moved on. Nothing he'd yet read explained Sirius' sour mood or his desire to hex Narcissa and Lucius. James had always thought Sirius had very thick skin, and though the letter was harsh and spiteful, James wouldn't have thought Sirius would let it get to him like this.

Then James neared the end of the letter and read something that made his stomach tie itself in knots.

Cissy tells me you've been speaking to the blood-traitor again. Perhaps it has slipped your feeble  
mind along with the rest of your proper upbringing, but she is no longer a member of our family,  
and you are to have no contact with her. I suppose I might be grateful you have not yet stooped  
to her level, that your blood-traitor friend is at least of proper stock and not a mudblood, but if  
you continue to consort with the likes of her, I am sure it won't be long before you have lost the last  
of your scruples. If you ask me, Druella and Cygnus ought to have let our Bella straighten that  
blood-traitor out as soon as the issue came to light.

"Straighten her out?" James whispered, hand clenching convulsively and crumpling up the letter. He remembered the looks on Sirius' and Andromeda's faces when "Bella" had come up in conversation. They'd said she was cruel, that she'd even turned Narcissa off to the Cruciatus curse. "She doesn't mean…"

Sirius' expression was dark as he nodded. "She does."

Mouth dry, James stared at the letter, reading and rereading those last few lines. At length, he forced himself to put it down and turn his attention to the second, more recent letter. He read it with trepidation, and – not surprisingly – found it filled with many of the same insults and accusations as the first. It seemed Mrs. Black had heard about the pranks that had been pulled on the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

Cissy assures me you had nothing to do with these incidents. Pity. It might have suggested you  
finally had your priorities sorted. I hear there were no significant casualties, just a few mudbloods  
and half-bloods sent to the infirmary overnight. Perhaps the blood-traitor will be the next to go. If  
you ask me, a jaunt in the infirmary is just what she deserves. Might even do her some good.

When he lowered the paper, James found Sirius staring at him. Neither spoke – James, at least, was beyond words.

The minutes ticked by. James still clutched the second letter. Finally, Sirius spoke: "It was them."

James nodded mutely.

"_Cissy assures me_," Sirius spat. "Well of _course_ Cissy knows it wasn't us. It was her and Malfoy all along! They must've told my mother that Andy and Ted were their next target."

Again, James nodded. "They're really okay with this?" His voice sounded hollow to his ears. "They're okay with a bunch of first years getting hurt?"

"You saw what she wrote – just a few mudbloods and half-bloods. I mean, think about it. Who did Madam Pomfrey have to keep overnight after the Defense creatures got loose? Mary, a muggleborn, and Lupin, a half-blood. And who fell down the stairs?"

James thought back. "Margaret and Chris—"

"Half-bloods."

"—and Gilderoy."

"Muggle-born." Sirius shook his head. "And now it's Ted the muggle-born and Andy the blood-traitor in the Hospital Wing. How many more people are they going to hurt?"

Neither boy had an answer for that.

"Alright," James said abruptly. "Let's go."

-.-.-

They found Narcissa alone out in the Quad, sitting on a bench with her winter cloak wrapped around her. The melting snow dripped off the roof and hit the flagstones with wet plops. Narcissa looked up, startled, as James and Sirius approached. Her dark eyes narrowed.

"What do _you_ want?"

Sirius' lip curled. "Where's your boyfriend, Cissy?"

Narcissa stared at him, frowning, then lifted one bony shoulder. "I don't know. Unlike _some_ people, we aren't attached at the hip." She sneered at James and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You really could do better, dear cousin."

"Not likely," Sirius shot back, and James felt a surge of pride.

"Oh, never mind." Narcissa stood in a swirl of robes and glowered down at them. "If your own mother can't get you to hear reason, I don't suppose I stand a chance."

James rolled his eyes. "And at least I'm a pureblood, right?"

With a haughty sniff, Narcissa regarded him coldly. "What _are_ you talking about?"

"Andy," Sirius said bluntly, and Narcissa stiffened.

"Let me guess," James said. "I should be grateful you prefer me to Ted, right?"

Narcissa scowled. "Quite frankly, I think you're both a disgrace to the House of Black."

"Yeah, but a pureblood beats a muggle-born any day." Sirius had drawn his wand at some point without James realizing it, and he now gripped it convulsively at his side. "That's the only reason we're still safe, isn't it?"

Something flickered in Narcissa's expression, but she reined it in and raised an eyebrow. "Safe? Safe from what, exactly?"

"From you." James reached into the pocket where he kept his wand, but didn't draw it out – yet.

"We're next, then?" Sirius asked in a clipped tone. "Now you've taken care of Ted and Andy?"

The color drained from Narcissa's face, and she stood rooted to the spot, mouth tightly closed as she stared at Sirius, eyes unwavering. "What?"

Sirius raised his wand. "Don't pretend you don't know!" he snapped. "You wrote my mother, didn't you? She mentioned it in her last letter, said she hoped Andy would be next – and look what happened!"

Narcissa's mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out.

"You thought it was a laugh, all these people getting hurt?" James demanded. "Just because they aren't purebloods it doesn't matter what happens, is that it?"

Eyes darting to James, Narcissa shook her head, snapping her mouth shut. "I haven't – Wh—how? Andy's—"

"Shut up!" Sirius roared. "_Furnunculus_!"

Narcissa let out a screech as the hex hit her square between the eyes. Instantly, large, shiny boils erupted on her skin, and she clapped her hands to her face. James drew his own wand, expecting Narcissa to hex them back, but she only stood there, petrified, a low moan emanating from beneath her hands.

"She's your _sister_," Sirius snapped. "Or doesn't that matter? It's all about pride isn't it, not family at all! _Taranta_—"

Narcissa let out a strangled cry and sprinted past Sirius, knocking his wand arm aside before he could finish the hex. Hands still covering her face, she disappeared through the door, leaving it open behind her. Her pounding footsteps faded down the corridor.

* * *

**A/N: She was always his favorite cousin, and seeing her lying in the Hospital Wing like that was torture. _Padfoot's Story_, chapter two ****- "Good Blacks" - is up!**


	16. Ancient Runes

**Chapter 16: Ancient Runes**

Narcissa maintained a low profile in the coming weeks. James and Sirius saw her only at a distance in the Great Hall, and there was no sign of another attack, either against them or any other students. Sirius put on a smug grin whenever he caught sight of her, seemingly convinced that his confrontation had set her straight.

But James had his doubts. Narcissa had seemed genuinely surprised to hear that something had happened to her sister.

"She was only acting, mate," Sirius argued when James voiced his thoughts in Charms the next week. "It was her – you know it was."

James hesitated, spending a few minutes practicing the Softening Charm on the block of wood Professor Flitwick had handed him at the start of class. "_Spongify_." The wood rippled a bit, but when James prodded it with his wand tip, it felt as solid as ever. "Maybe Malfoy's the one behind it, you think?"

"I'm sure he is," Sirius said, frowning at his own piece of wood, which had warped itself into an S-shape before becoming fixed once more. "Him and Cissy."

"Maybe." James stared fixedly at his desk, tapping his wand idly on the corner. "Didn't Andromeda say Bella turned her and Narcissa off to violence, though? I mean, I've never seen Narcissa do any of the dirty work. Maybe she didn't know Malfoy was going to target Andromeda. Maybe he gave her the slip so he could do it without her knowing – or so he could get Stenwick to do it without her knowing."

Sirius didn't respond immediately, but cast the charm again and watched curiously as the wood uncurled lazily, then grew rigid. "You think?"

James shrugged. "I don't know your family like you do, but… Something just seems off about the way Narcissa reacted. _Spongify_! That's a bit softer, wouldn't you say?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sure."

James dropped the subject after that, but couldn't stop thinking about it. His mind kept replaying the three attacks – he couldn't think of them as pranks anymore, no matter what the rest of the school thought. First had been the release of the creatures in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Malfoy could have been out in the corridor, he supposed, and cast the vanishing spell through the door when none of the first years were looking.

The ice on the stair was a bit harder. Malfoy would have only had a few moments to come out from wherever he'd been hiding, cast the charm, and disappear. Possible, but risky. Surely as a prefect, Malfoy would want to be absolutely sure no one could pin the blame on him.

And finally, the potion. Malfoy hadn't been in the room, and the only Slytherin had surely been too far away to do anything without Slughorn noticing.

But what other explanation was there? If Julian Stenwick hadn't sabotaged Ted and Andromeda's potion, who had? The Ravenclaws Ted had mentioned? Why? Unless it really was just an accident…

So then did that make Mrs. Black's letter a mere coincidence?

These thoughts chased each other through James' head endlessly for the rest of the week. Ted left the Hospital Wing on Wednesday morning, though he still spent most of his free time there with Andromeda, who drifted in and out of consciousness. Under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye, Ted began to administer some of Andromeda's treatments, which seemed to help with the aura of guilt that hung over him these days.

More than anything, James wanted to be able to give Ted some proof that Andromeda's injuries weren't his fault.

But the days crawled by, and he could think of no way that it could have been sabotage, unless Malfoy had gotten his hands on an invisibility cloak like James'.

"That'd solve everything, wouldn't it?" Sirius asked Friday in Potions.

James sighed. "But what're the odds?"

"Not good." Sirius shook his head and dumped some garlic into his cauldron. "Maybe the professors are in on it."

With a snort, James stirred his potion, crossing his fingers in hopes that it would turn golden brown. Instead, it turned black. "Ugh. What, you think Sprout's moonlighting as a dark witch?"

Sirius laughed. "No, I guess not. Hm…" His cauldron had begun to spew thick black smoke, and James eyed it nervously.

"You don't think someone's sabotaging _us_ now, do you?"

"No way," Sirius said, but he sounded anxious all the same. "At least the cauldron's not melting. And I don't see any green sparks."

James chuckled. "Yeah… Wait!"

Sirius, who had been about to add the next ingredient, snake skin, yanked his hand back and whirled to face James. "What?"

"Sorry," James said, fighting a smile. "I've just thought of something."

"Oh… So it's safe to add this, d'you think?"

James shrugged. "Don't ask me."

Making a face, Sirius cautiously tossed the snake skin into the bubbling potion, and when it didn't immediately explode, he breathed a sigh of relief. "So what was it you wanted to say?"

"Green sparks."

"What about them?"

"It's probably nothing…" James glanced around and dropped his voice so no one would overhear. "Where else've we seen green sparks?"

Sirius gave him a blank look, and James sighed but refused to say more. He was thinking of the knobless steel door they'd found in the dungeons, which had snapped green sparks at him when he'd tried to touch it. There had been an awful lot of magic in the door, and James had had a sudden, wild thought that it might be cursed.

"I'll tell you after class," James muttered, and Sirius nodded.

-.-.-

James was glad that Potions was their only Friday class, as this meant they could sneak off to the vault door after lesson without anyone missing them. While the rest of the class trudged up to the Great Hall for lunch, James and Sirius ducked into the passage that would take them to the Entrance Dungeon, Peter close behind. Almost at once, Sirius seemed to understand what James was thinking.

"You think that door has something to do with this?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"What door?" Peter asked.

James shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not, but it's worth a look, right?"

"_What_ _door_?" Peter repeated, and James turned to him.

"What, haven't we brought you here before?" But of course they hadn't. In fact, they hadn't come down to the vault since before the Christmas holidays, as they hadn't learned any spells since then they thought might help them get past the enchanted door, and anyway had been far too occupied with everything else that had been going on.

With an apologetic smile, James began to explain to Peter all that Cobin had told them about the lost treasure of Hogwarts and the dungeon vault, and how he and Sirius had been trying to get in. Peter listened with rapt attention.

"I don't reckon the odds are very good that there's actually treasure in there," James said as the three boys trudged down the winding, sloping corridor that led to the vault. "But there was something strange about that door, and with everything that's been going on lately…"

"You don't think…" Peter hesitated.

"What?" James asked.

Peter ducked his head. "That one of those spells you tried might've done something? Triggered some curse or something?"

As a matter of fact, this thought had not crossed James' mind, and he slowed his pace as he thought about it. Was it possible? Could he and Sirius be responsible for all the injuries, after all? His heard thudded against his chest, and his mouth ran dry.

A cry of surprise from Sirius, who had been trotting ahead, cut James' thoughts short. He exchanged a confused glance with Peter and they hurried forward to join Sirius at the vault door.

The heavy steel door stood open, the runes on its surface no longer glowing green. Sirius stood just outside the vault, staring warily at the door and what was visible of the room beyond. Small, dark, and empty, the room resembled a smaller version of the vaults at Gringotts, the wizarding bank in Diagon Alley, though obviously without the gold.

James joined Sirius in the doorway, while Peter stopped three steps back, trembling. Sirius had his wand in his hand.

Thinking this wise, James drew his own wand and smiled nervously at Sirius. "Shall we?"

"Don't," Peter moaned behind them. "What if there's some kind of curse?"

Sirius looked perturbed at that for a few seconds, but James could see the curiosity in his eyes. "Someone else's been in there already. If there were any curses, they've already been set off."

Peter whimpered and backed up a step. "You don't know that."

James sized up the dark room beyond. "He's right – it's risky," James said, at which Sirius pouted. James grinned. "You gonna let that stop you?"

"Course not!" Sirius said, also grinning.

"Guys," Peter moaned.

But James and Sirius ignored him and stepped through the door. Peter let out a squeak of fright, and the other two tensed, waiting for the room to collapse on their heads.

Seconds ticked past in silence.

James spun in a full circle before he lowered his wand. "Well that was disappointing. Get in here, Peter."

"Hm."

James turned to see Sirius striding deeper into the room, his wand raised to light the darkness. "What is it?" James asked. "_Lumos_." The light of his wand added to that of Sirius', revealing… absolutely nothing.

"It's empty," Sirius said, sounding put out. "There's some kind of stand here, but there's nothing on it."

James looked where Sirius was pointing. A stone pedestal sat in the center of the vault, a bit larger than a dinner plate. It was covered in dust, aside from a patch in the middle, roughly round, the size of an orange.

"There _was_ something here," James said, indicating the clean patch. Sirius stared at it, and then at the open door.

"So someone came in here and took whatever all those protections were guarding?" Sirius asked. "Who – Malfoy?"

James frowned. "I don't know."

"You think he even _could_?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe one of the professors? Or _Filch!_"

James sighed. "If we knew what kind of enchantments they had to get past, we'd know what kind of skill they'd need," he said thoughtfully. His eyes drifted to the door. "Runes!"

Sirius and Peter frowned at him. "What?" Peter asked.

"Runes." James pointed at the door. "There are runes carved here. You suppose we could find someone who's taken Ancient Runes to translate for us?"

"Worth a try," Sirius said with a shrug.

-.-.-

"Ancient Runes?" Ted Tonks asked, pausing as he wrapped a bandage around one of Andromeda's burns. "What do you need that for?"

James glanced to Sirius, who stared right back at him, shrugging. "It's a long story," James said. "Have you taken it?"

"Yeah," Ted replied. "But only to OWL level. I did alright, but I had to drop it sixth year so I could take all the NEWT classes I need to get a Healer certification. Dromeda's still in it," he added, frowning down at his sleeping fiancée, who looked much better than she had a week ago. "If it's something you can bring up here, she'll be much more help than me."

"I… don't think we'll be able to bring it," Sirius said evasively. "But if you could come take a look…?"

With a sigh, Ted turned back to Andromeda's wound. "Alright, if it's that important to you, I'll come. Just give me a few minutes to finish up."

As Madam Pomfrey was giving them an irritated glare from her office door, James suggested they wait out in the corridor. Ted joined them ten minutes later, and without a word, they turned to lead him down to the empty vault.

"Where are we going?" Ted asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

James heisted, but Sirius and Peter were both looking at him, so he sighed. "What happened with that potion wasn't an accident," James said. "That is to say… it wasn't your fault."

Letting out a soft moan of realization, Ted stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, good lord – no, listen you lot – the Slytherins aren't behind every little thing that goes wrong in this school. I know you'd like nothing more than to blame them for this, but I'm telling you, Julian Stenwick had nothing to do with this."

"We know," James said, holding up his hands, and Ted fell silent, glancing from one boy to another. "We know."

"Then what…?" Ted began.

Sirius shook his head. "There's something going on, but we don't know what. That's why we need you to translate for us."

After this, James and Sirius refused to say more, and Ted followed them silently. James glanced over his shoulder once, and saw that Ted was taking in the dungeon corridor, a deep frown on his face. Wondering what Ted was thinking, James continued staring over his shoulder until Sirius had to yank on his arm to keep him from running into the wall. After that, James kept his eyes forward. When they came to the vault door, he stopped and turned to Ted.

"This is it."

Ted's eyes flicked to the door, to the dark space beyond, and back to James. "What is this?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Sirius said.

At Ted's confused glance, James said, "Cobin – you know Cobin, that loopy old portrait?"

"I know him." Ted did not sound impressed.

"Right, well Cobin told us about this vault ages ago," James said. "Said there was some kind of treasure behind it. Me and Sirius came down here a few times, but the door was always locked. We gave it up a little before Christmas – before the first attack." Ted's expression was growing more and more guarded, but James rushed along, not giving Ted a chance to protest. "I thought – well, I didn't really think there was anything special about the door, but then – then you said something that got me thinking – green sparks, you said there were 'weird green sparks' after the potion exploded, and that reminded me of something that happened."

James gestured to the door. "The first time we came down here, I tried to touch the door, and it shot out green sparks – I know, I know," he added as Ted opened his mouth. "Just a coincidence, right? But then the door was opened, which means someone's been in here since Christmas, and they took something out of there, and who knows what kind of spells were on that door and—"

"And you think," Ted interrupted firmly, a smile playing at his lips, "that there might be some kind of curse that got activated."

He was laughing; James could see it in his eyes. Bristling, James crossed his arms and glared at Ted, uncomfortably aware that it probably came across as a pout.

Then Ted did laugh. "Relax, James. I'll take a look. I doubt I'll find any kind of curse, but I'll take a look. _Lumos_."

James stepped back to give Ted space, and the Hufflepuff ran his eyes over the lines of runes, brow furrowed in concentration. James joined Sirius and Peter along the wall, watching in silent interest, waiting for some proclamation. What would be worse, James wondered, finding out that he was wrong and Ted _had_ made a mistake that had nearly killed his fiancée, or finding out that a curse had been unleashed on Hogwarts?

Long minutes passed with nothing but a few murmurs from Ted, who traced the strings of runes over and over, shaking his head frequently. Peter soon sat down with his back against the wall and began to tap his wand absently on the floor so multi-colored sparks skittered across the stone. Sirius watched him for a while before huffing and plopping down beside him. A moment later, James joined his friends on the floor.

"So if it is a curse," Peter whispered abruptly, wrapping his arms around his knees. "What then?"

James bit his lip. If it was a curse, they would have to go to the staff, of course. James wouldn't dream of taking on some ancient curse himself. He shot a glance toward Ted, who still worked diligently at the translation, lips moving silently as he raised his wand higher to illuminate another stretch of runes.

"What do you think?" Sirius teased, elbowing Peter in the ribs. "We're going to charge in headfirst and bring it down on our heads."

Peter let out an _eep_ and fell silent.

Chuckling, James swatted the back of Sirius' head. "Shut up. Of course we aren't doing that, Peter."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

A sigh drew all three pairs of eyes to Ted, who had turned at last from the door, rubbing his eyes. He yawned.

"Well?" James asked eagerly, lurching to his feet and brushing off his robes.

"It's not good," Ted said, shaking his head. "I couldn't make out a lot of it, but whatever it is, it's serious magic. Lots of protective runes, sealing runes, stuff like that." He raised his wand and illuminated the intricate pattern of runes – a spiral, a seven-pointed star, a magic circle. "I've seen pictures of spells like these, but they're all old, really old. Egyptian pyramids old. I didn't know anyone could still cast them."

Sirius was on his feet now, too, and he peered at the door. "How d'you know these aren't just as old as all those pictures you saw?"

Ted rapped the door with his knuckles, and it gave a hollow ring. "Steel," he explained. "It might be a couple hundred years old, but no more than that."

"Okay," James said slowly. "Can you make out any more of it?"

"Down here." Ted gestured to a line of runes at the bottom of the pattern. "I don't think this is a spell. It says something about a lock, and 'eternity' or 'eternal' or something like that… 'Power'… 'Light'… This bit here means 'Headmaster of Hogwarts,' so _that_ must be a name." He poked a funny little squiggle that James thought looked like a spider, or perhaps some abstract rendering of the Giant Squid.

Ted sighed. "Sorry. I've never seen most of these runes before. I can't make heads or tails of it. Dromeda might be able to tell you more once she's out of the Hospital Wing."

James nodded. "Right."

With an apologetic smile, Ted glanced at his watch. "I'd better be getting back. Dromeda'll be waking up soon."

"We'll come with you," Sirius said, and turned with Ted back up the long, dank corridor, Peter on their heels. James gazed at the door a bit longer, but soon hurried to catch up with the others.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, someone was just coming out of it. Her long blonde hair swished as she pulled the heavy wood doors closed behind her and glanced quickly, nervously down the hall. She turned, caught sight of the four boys now staring at her, and froze.

"Narcissa?" Ted asked, mouth agape.

Sirius growled, reaching for his wand. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Narcissa's eyes were wide as she took short, quick steps backward. Her mouth opened once and then closed. She spun and dashed down the hall. Sirius took off running after her, but she disappeared around a corner, and Sirius slowed, jamming his wand irritably back into his pocket. He turned and slouched back toward the others, who were exchanging confused glances.

Ted broke away first, turning and throwing open the door to the Hospital Wing. There was a loud gasp, and then someone laughed.

"Oh, Ted! You scared me!"

Andromeda was sitting up, settled against the mound of pillows, smiling.

Ted crossed to her bed and took up her hand, brow creased. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She gave him a wry smile. "Are you?"

"Cissy didn't… do anything, did she?" Sirius asked, casting a dark look over his shoulder.

James watched curiously as Andromeda flushed faintly pink and she began to fiddle with the edge of the sheets. Sirius and Ted both bore down on her, faces twisted with rage.

"She did, didn't she?" Ted demanded in a furious whisper, sitting on the edge of the bed as Sirius began to pace the room.

"No – no!" Andromeda shook her head so violently she stopped and winced, reaching up to rub her neck. "She just wanted to talk."

Sirius scoffed.

"_Honest_."

"What could _she_ want to talk to _you_ about?"

Andromeda looked ruffled and crossed her arms. "Cissy may be dating a complete prat – oh, all right," she added at Sirius' incredulous look. "So she's a bit of a prat herself—"

"A bit?" James muttered, and beside him, Peter gave a nervous little laugh.

"—but she's still my sister, and she doesn't like seeing me hurt any more than you do."

"I doubt that," Sirius said.

Ted shook his head. "She's got a funny way of showing she cares."

With a sigh and what looked like considerable effort, Andromeda released the sheet she had been clutching and folded her hands in her lap. "She's been coming to see me in secret. I won't pretend I don't wish she'd stop being so paranoid about someone seeing us together. Her priorities are a right mess, but she's coming, and that's something, isn't it?"

From the look on Sirius' face, he didn't think it _was_, but he remained silent…

…At least until they returned to the common room half an hour later, after leaving the engaged couple to enjoy one another's company. Ted had seemed to put Narcissa from his mind and tended Andromeda with a smile. Sirius, in contrast, could hardly wait to bring up the Slytherin prefect's odd behavior.

"Don't you think it's suspicious?" he demanded, pacing behind the plump red couch.

James hardly glanced up from the game of wizarding chess he was playing with Peter, who wasn't faring well. One of James' knights gave Peter's queen a sound thrashing and booted her off the board, at which Peter sighed and James chuckled. "Of course it's suspicious," James said distractedly, leaning back as Peter contemplated the board with a look of near defeat. "She's a Slytherin, after all."

"She's up to something."

"Course she is – ha!" James leaned forward again as Peter directed his one remaining rook forward. With a tiny, triumphant shout, James' queen took the rook. "Checkmate!"

Sirius stopped pacing. "We should do something."

"Like what?" Peter asked, shaking his head as James puffed out his chest in victory.

"I dunno."

James rolled his eyes. "We know whatever's going on has to do with that door, right?"

"Does it?"

James scowled. "What do you mean? Of course it's got to do with the door!"

"We don't know that," Peter pointed out timidly.

With a sigh, James shrugged and began to reset the chess pieces. "Okay, fine. Either it has to do with the door, which means we can't do anything until we've got a translation, or it has to do with something else, which means we can't do anything until we've got a different idea where to start. Another go?" he added to Peter, nodding at the chess board.

Peter made a face and shook his head.

"Your loss. We might as well enjoy ourselves while we've got nothing else to do." He glanced up at Sirius. "How about you?"

But Sirius was glaring at him. "How can you sit around playing games at a time like this? Andy could've died, James! She could've _died!_ And what about the next time? What if the next person's not so lucky? But go ahead and play your stupid games! It's not like it's _your_ cousin lying in the Hospital Wing."

And before James could find his voice to retort, Sirius had disappeared up the stairs to the dormitory, leaving James and Peter in stunned silence.


	17. Suspicions

**Chapter 17: Suspicions**

After Sirius' snappish behavior, James was nervous to face his friend again and headed down to dinner with Peter early. He knew Sirius had been on edge ever since the potions accident, and Narcissa's presence in the hospital wing had stirred up his anxiety all over again. James understood, of course. He would hate to see anybody else hurt like Ted and Andromeda had been. He just didn't see what they could do without a translation of those runes.

Sirius entered the Great Hall twenty minutes after James and Peter. James, who sat with his back to the door, knew the moment Sirius appeared because Peter tried to combine the last five bites of food on his plate into a single mouthful – and promptly began to choke.

With a conscious effort, James kept his eyes on his plate and continued eating at the same pace, but when Sirius slid into the seat next to him, he set his fork and knife carefully on the table.

A moment passed, during which both James and Sirius stared in silence at Peter, who coughed a few more times before he managed to swallow. Then, although the rest of the Hall still buzzed with conversation, James felt as though silence had descended on the trio like a Grim.

Sirius cleared his throat. "So…"

"So." James' eyes drifted to Sirius' hand, which played absently with his spoon, rocking it back and forth on the tabletop.

"We gonna explore tonight?"

And with that, the row in the common room might never have happened. Sirius said no more about Narcissa's visit to the Hospital Wing; he seemed to understand that the attacks worried James and Peter, too. In return, James made an effort to investigate other potential sources of the attacks. For the next week and a half, the trio kept their eyes and ears open and James' invisibility cloak with them at all times. They spied on Slytherins, eavesdropped on professors, questioned ghosts and portraits about suspicious goings-on.

Each night, they spent an hour or two prowling about under the cloak after hours, in case someone else was out as well, preparing another attack. They saw, heard, and learned absolutely nothing of use. But then, James at least hadn't expected to. He doubted even Sirius had held out hope of some breakthrough from their amateur sleuthing. If someone _was_ going around orchestrating the attacks, they knew how to conceal their involvement, and a few first years weren't going to stumble upon the perpetrator.

Nevertheless, it felt good to be _doing_ something, rather than sitting around waiting for another attack.

Andromeda's condition continued to improve, and though Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping her in the Hospital Wing, she was soon well enough to begin making up homework she had missed.

Finally, as the Easter holidays approached, Andromeda was discharged. Ted found James, Sirius, and Peter Monday morning to give them the good news.

"Just – give her a few days," he added, seeing the looks of delight on the three boys' faces. "She's missed two weeks of classes, and with our NEWTs coming up, she's really stressed. She needs to get caught up."

"But…" Sirius began, but James cut him off.

"Of course. Would she have time during the Easter hols?"

Ted hesitated. "I can't promise anything… I'll talk to her about it."

-.-.-

Three more days crawled by, until the day before the Easter holidays arrived. None of the three boys was happy about having to wait for a translation, but they forced themselves to be patient. That night, unable to sleep, they decided to wander the castle.

"Ted's right," James said snappishly as the three of them huddled together under the invisibility cloak on the third floor. "She needs time to study."

"They don't call them 'Nastily Exhausting' for nothing," Sirius agreed, just as testily.

Peter sighed as they reached a staircase and started down toward the second floor. "We already agreed to wait. Why are you still fighting about it?"

"Because we're bored," James and Sirius said at the same time.

Rolling his eyes, Peter fell silent.

"Besides," James added. "We don't _want_ to wait; it's just that we haven't got much choice."

They reached the foot of the stairs and set out along the Defense corridor, James and Sirius bickering as usual about who was the most likely culprit. Sirius remained convinced Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black were responsible, but James had begun to suspect the Carrow siblings, who were not only older, but had a reputation for sadistic tendencies and intense disgust for muggles.

"Everyone knows the Carrows've done stuff like this before," James pointed out.

Sirius shook his head. "But Cissy and Malfoy have more reason to—"

A noise from the Defense classroom cut him off, and both James and Sirius stopped dead. Peter ran into them and fell backward, tumbling out from under the cloak.

"Who's there?"

James and Sirius barely managed to drag Peter back under the cloak before a figure appeared in the classroom doorway. But it was too small to be Professor Juniper, or indeed any adult. A student, James wondered?

"H-hello?" the figure whispered nervously. "Is – Is someone there?" With one hand gripping the doorframe, he peered both ways down the corridor.

In that moment, James recognized the other boy. It was Remus Lupin, dressed in pajamas several sizes too large and a ratty old dressing gown. He'd been asleep when James and the others had left the dormitory… or had he? Suddenly, James couldn't remember.

Before he had time to think, James found himself stepping out from under the invisibility cloak. Sirius and Peter tried to hold him back, but he twisted out of their grip. A moment later, Remus caught sight of him and gasped, clutching at the neck of his dressing gown.

"Y-you!" he stammered.

James grinned. "Well, well, Lupin. Never thought I'd see you out after hours."

Remus' pale face flushed an angry red. "I couldn't sleep."

"Is _that_ all it takes?" Sirius asked as he appeared from the shadow of a statue, Peter a step behind. James saw the slight bulge in Sirius' dressing gown pocket that was the invisibility cloak. "So we just have to keep you up all night and you'll get off our case for playing pranks and stuff?"

Crossing his arms, Remus turned and stalked back into the classroom. "Go away."

"What's the matter, Lupin?" Sirius pouted, trailing along behind the other boy.

Remus snorted. "What do _you_ think?"

"What are you doing here?" James asked.

"I told you," Remus snapped. "I couldn't sleep."

"I meant _here_. Why the Defense classroom?"

Remus didn't answer.

In a small voice, Peter asked, "Are you alright, Remus?"

"Fine."

As silence descended on the group, Remus paced to the front of the room and rapped his knuckles on the mesh front of the Cornish pixie cage. The small blue creatures woke up and flung themselves against the mesh, biting at it and chattering angrily. Remus stared at them for a long moment before he turned and resumed his pacing.

James, Sirius, and Peter watched in silence as Remus walked, stopping every now and then to rile up the pixies or peer into the other dark cages. Eventually, he stopped, leaning his forehead against the window. The moonlight washed over his pale, drawn face, making him look sickly and old.

James had never seen Remus like this before – agitated and restless. No. That wasn't true. He'd been like this just after the Christmas holidays. The first week back he'd been short-tempered and generally unpleasant. When his mother had been ill.

Rubbing the back of his neck, James joined Remus at the window. The other boy tensed, but James said nothing, merely stared up at the bright, fat moon as the minutes ticked by.

After a time, James cleared his throat. "How's your mum?"

Remus jerked back from the window, staring at James with wide eyes. "W-what do you mean?"

Sirius frowned at James for a moment, then realization dawned in his eyes. "Oh! Of course!" He palmed his forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of it before."

"W-what?" Peter asked, standing in a corner, eyes darting from James to Sirius to Remus, who stood rigid and gaping, his eyes wide as saucers.

James raised a hand to clap Remus on the shoulder, but before he could, there was a terrible screech, a chill swept over the room, and the window beside them shattered. Peter gasped, Sirius yelled, and Remus flung his hands over his head. James threw himself to the ground, but not before what felt like a hundred needles pierced his skin.

The glass shards fell to the ground with a tinkling sound, and the four boys stared in stunned silence at the ragged edges of the widow, through which a cool spring breeze now blew. Then Remus, his arms streaked with blood, staggered back, glancing fearfully from James to Sirius to Peter.

Footsteps in the corridor made them all whirl around, and Remus, if possible, went even paler. Peter let out a squeak of fear. But Sirius was already moving, withdrawing the invisibility cloak from his dressing gown pocket. With the barest nod from James, Sirius dragged Peter over toward them and threw the cloak over all three of them.

"That's a—" Remus began, but he never got a chance to finish because at that moment, James grabbed his bloody arm, and he cried out in pain.

There was a voice from the corridor. "Someone's in there!"

"Sorry," James hissed. "Just get under here." And he dragged Remus under the cloak.

"What are you doing?" both Remus and Sirius said, and James shushed them both.

"Get back – into the corner!" As he spoke, James herded the others back into the dark corner behind the stack of cages, clapping a hand over Remus' mouth as he tried to speak. After a bit of a scuffle, they reached the corner, James and Sirius blocking Remus' escape, Peter pinned up against the wall.

Professors McGonagall, Juniper, and Flitwick burst into the room. Flitwick crossed immediately to the shattered window; McGonagall and Juniper scanned the room.

"Blood!" Flitwick gasped.

McGonagall crossed to his side. "Someone _was_ here."

Juniper withdrew his wand. "_Revelio_. _Finite Incantatem_."

James clutched at the invisibility cloak, heart drumming, expecting to hear cries of recognition and accusation at any moment. He could feel the intensity of Remus' glare like a tingle of lightning on the back of his neck. But when McGonagall spoke, it wasn't anger or shock in her voice.

"You think they're still here?"

"Possibly," said Professor Juniper. "And they may be the ones responsible for all this."

But Flitwick shook his head. "The one thing we know about the culprit – or culprits, I suppose – is that they are… skilled. They wouldn't have injured themselves. They wouldn't have made that mistake."

"True enough," replied Juniper. "But no one else would have fled."

James flinched as Remus drove his elbow into his ribs.

"Except perhaps students," said Professor McGonagall shrewdly, "who are afraid to be caught out after curfew."

"She knows," Remus hissed. "She's going to find out it was you."

"Not if you keep your mouth shut," Sirius shot back. "And you _will_, if you know what's good for you."

James glared at them both. "_Shh!_"

"Well _he_ hasn't got the whole school thinking he's the one doing all this!" Sirius argued.

"I wonder _why_ they think that?" Remus snarled.

"Guys…" Peter moaned.

James glanced nervously to where the professors stood, deep in conversation. "Shut up."

Remus glared at him. "In fact, I'm beginning to think they're right."

"What! We didn't—"

"C'mon guys…"

"_Quiet!_"

"Did you hear that?"

Professor Juniper's voice put an end to the argument as all three professors turned toward the four boys hidden in the corner.

_We've got to get out of here_, James thought. He glanced past the professors and saw that the door was still wide open. They just had to get there.

"C'mon," he whispered, nodding toward the door. "And for Merlin's sake, be _quiet_."

They shuffled along, bumping elbows and stepping on toes, holding their tongues only with very great effort. It seemed to take ages, inching along the wall in silence, keeping away from the professors. McGonagall and Juniper advanced on the corner where the four boys had been hiding while Flitwick remained by the window, his wand bouncing from the doorway to the empty space behind the other professors – expecting the invisible students to launch an attack?

Peter maintained a tight grip on James' arm, and Sirius held a grumpy Remus around the shoulders, one hand covering his mouth.

When they finally made it to the door and slipped out into the corridor, James breathed a sigh of relief, but urged the others to keep moving, creeping awkwardly along until they were two floors away, at which point Remus pried off Sirius' hands and lurched out from under the invisibility cloak. He made as though to run away, but James sprang after him and pulled him to a stop.

"Get _off_ me," Remus growled, and when James didn't let go, he rounded on him. "What do you _want_?"

"You…" James hesitated. "You don't actually think it was us… Do you?"

With a glower, Remus stared at him, then past him at Sirius, who shoved the invisibility cloak into Peter's arms before striding forward.

"You're wrong," Sirius said. "It wasn't us."

"And I'm supposed to just take your word for it?"

Sirius' fists clenched at his side. "Why the bloody hell would we want to attack people like that?"

Remus snorted. "Because you think it's funny."

"Funny?" Sirius roared.

"It's not funny!" James added.

"Oh, but it is," Remus said with something like a growl. "You get a kick out of putting lives in danger, don't you?"

"That's a lie!" James was seething now, and didn't bother to keep his voice down, though Peter cast an anxious look around the corridor. "We've _never_—"

"What about Gilderoy? What about tricking him into going flying before he knew how?" Remus waited for an answer, but none came, and he rolled his eyes. "That's what I thought. You don't care who gets hurt so long as you can have a laugh. And with that cloak, there's no chance of getting caught."

James felt the blood drain from his face. "We didn't have anything to do with those attacks! You've _got_ to believe us!"

But Remus merely snatched his arm away from James, spun on his heel, and disappeared through a nearby doorway. James stared after him for a long moment before turning in the opposite direction. Sirius and Peter hesitated a moment longer, then hurried to catch up.

"You think he's going to tell people we're…" Peter began, but couldn't seem to find the courage to finish the thought.

"He won't if he knows what's good for him," Sirius muttered darkly.

James grunted. "If he does, that's just another reason for us to figure out what's really going on."

"Which we're trying to do anyway," Peter pointed out.

"Exactly."

"You think it might be him?" Sirius mused.

James frowned. "Lupin? Why would he—?"

"Who knows? But he's sneaking around, looking at the creatures that got turned loose in the first attack, and then the window just _happens_ to shatter when he's around?"

"He wound up in the _hospital wing_ after that first attack!" James argued.

"So why's he back there after hours? And acting so… odd."

It was Peter who spoke up this time: "His mother…"

"_Think_, Pete!" Sirius cried. "Who's sick as often as she is? There's something weird about that Lupin. I don't trust him."

James rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean he's been going around attacking people."

Just then, voices echoed up from the floor below and, with a nervous glance toward the dark stairwell, the three boys decided not to press their luck any further that night. They hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, crossed the empty common room, and slipped up the stairs to their dormitory. James, Sirius, and Peter hardly gave Remus' empty bed a glance before climbing into their own and falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

**A/N: A midnight encounter, another attack, and a multitude of suspicions - what was running through Remus' head during all the excitement? Check out chapter four of _Moony's Story_ - "April 1972: Invisible."**


	18. Translation

**Chapter 18: Translation**

The next morning, those students who were going home for the Easter holidays – including Remus Lupin – gathered in the Entrance Hall after breakfast to board the carriages that would take them to the Hogsmeade Station. James and Sirius and Peter hadn't had a chance to talk to Remus after the midnight happenings (though, admittedly, Sirius and Peter showed relatively little interest in trying). James thought for sure Remus would have spread his suspicions around the school, but the other students didn't treat the trio any differently than normal.

After the carriages pulled away, the rest of the school went their separate ways to study… or _not_. Unlike the other, older students – and the overachievers like Lily Evans – James, Sirius, and Peter were being decidedly unproductive. They had already played four games of exploding snap by the time they began to argue about whether and when to ask Andromeda about translating the runes.

Sirius thought they ought to go look for her right away, while James argued that they could at least give her one more day to catch up on her studies. All the fifth and seventh year Gryffindors were buried in notes and books – even the Prewett twins, who never seemed to study. And none of them had missed two weeks of classes.

The only thing they agreed on was that Peter's suggestion – to wait until after Andromeda's NEWTs – was completely out of the question.

They argued through several more games of exploding snap before Frank Longbottom entered through the portrait hole and informed them that someone wanted to see them. In the corridor, they found Andromeda, looking tired but much healthier than she had for several weeks, Ted hovering just behind her with a hand in the small of her back.

"Here," Andromeda said without preamble. She held out a piece of parchment.

"What's that?" James asked.

Sirius took the parchment and glanced down at the small, neat writing. "This is…"

"Ted told me all about your suspicions," Andromeda explained. "He took me down there this morning, and I translated what was on that door."

James and Peter crowed around Sirius to read what was written on the parchment.

"I was able to find most of the spells in my books – sealing spells, protective charms, lost of anti-dark magic stuff. But the most dangerous thing on that door is a repulsion jinx, and you've already discovered that it's hardly lethal."

"What about whatever was in there?" James asked.

"I don't know what it was, but there was an inscription." Andromeda tapped the bottom of the parchment, and Sirius read the words aloud:

By order of —, Headmaster of Hogwarts, 17 March 1782.  
May this chamber be forever locked, that the remnants of the dark wizard —'s power  
may never again see the light of day.

"Before you ask," said Ted when Sirius had finished, "it's all but impossible to translate names, so we can't tell you who it's talking about."

"But it has to do with a dark wizard, hasn't it?" James asked, trying not to sound too excited. "So that's it! It has to be!"

"_What's _it?" Peter asked.

"Whatever was in there! Someone _must_ be using it to cause all these attacks."

"You know what we've got to do now, don't you?" Sirius asked glumly, and James stared at him blankly. Sirius grimaced. "The library."

James blinked, frowned, and finally laughed. "Of course. To the library!"

And he grabbed Sirius and Peter by the wrist and dragged them down the stairs, shouting a thank-you over his shoulder.

-.-.-

Once in the library, it was an easy thing to find a list of former Headmasters that named Elfindork Endowynn as Headmaster from 1768 until 1809. What proved more difficult was pinpointing the identity of the dark wizard mentioned in the inscription on the door.

"Here," said James, holding up a history book for the others to see. "One of Endowynn's students, Turin Studevant, grew up and started getting muggle kids lost in woods for a laugh."

"Did he ever duel Endowynn?" Peter asked, glancing up from his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Er… no…"

"How about this one?" Sirius said, his nose buried in a biography of the former Headmaster. "Julius Gohron, infamous muggle-killer… dueled Endowynn and lost… Oh, drat. That wasn't until 1795. Can't be him."

James sighed. "You got anything, Pete?"

Turning another page, Peter shook his head. "Endowynn's hardly in here at all. Listen to this. '_The seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were volatile times in the wizarding world, and Hogwarts was not immune to this climate of menace and distrust. A number of dark wizards cropped up in this era, and as aurors invested more and more time into stopping muggle persecution, these dark wizards wreaked havoc within the wizarding world itself – even at Hogwarts._

"'_Heliotrope Wilkins, Vindictus Veridian, Quentin Trimble, Dilys Derwent, and Elfindork Endowynn, the Heads of Hogwarts during this time, each faced numerous threats and attacks both in and out of Hogwarts, but were able to ward off all such danger and protect the students. For instance…_'"

Peter paused to skim ahead, then set the book down and rubbed his eyes. "It talks about a couple of things that happened, but none of them have anything to do with Endowynn."

"And that's it?" James asked, disappointed.

For a few moments, the only sound was flipping pages as Peter skimmed through the index and searched for other listed page numbers. "Well, he – and the Heads of Dumstrang and Beauxbatons – they were all injured by a cockatrice during the Triwizard Tournament of 1792," he offered unhelpfully.

With a loud groan, Sirius dropped his head onto the table. Two aisles down, the librarian, Madam Pince, leaned around a stack of books to hush them. Sirius mumbled an apology and fell silent until she had left.

Then he turned to James. "Let's leave off for today, James. We've been at it for hours, and I think my brain's about to fall out."

Peter nodded in agreement, and even James had to admit they weren't getting anywhere. They packed up and left the library, wandering around the corridors until, eventually, they found themselves outside under the beech tree near the lake. It was a warm, sunny day, and the grounds crawled with other students enjoying the weather.

A shout and a chorus of laughter drew James' attention to the distant hill where the Whomping Willow stood. Several students had gathered there to resume the old game; Davey Gudgeon had just been sent flying by a low, lashing branch, and the other students clapped him on the shoulder as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"I'd forgotten," Sirius murmured.

James nodded in agreement. "I didn't realize they were still going at it."

"Especially with all the attacks," Peter added.

_They don't know what we know,_ James reminded himself, watching as another boy made a go at the thrashing tree. _They don't know about the curse – thing – whatever._

_ But then again_, said a small voice, _we don't know much about it either._

James and Sirius and Peter sat under the beech tree and watched the other students brave the Whomping Willow over and over, but for once, James didn't feel like joining in. Neither, it seemed, did Sirius. Each time a branch made contact, James felt a lurch in his gut and held his breath until the student regained his feet and shook off the blow.

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and turned his eyes resolutely to the lake, where a handful of sixth years were skipping rocks and hitting them with various spells.

They stayed there for an hour, hardly talking, just watching the other students and looking round in alarm whenever a ruckus went up from the growing crowd at the Whomping Willow. When lunchtime rolled around, they filed into the Great Hall with the rest of the school and ate in silence.

Word seemed to have spread of the events of the previous night, and though James kept expecting to hear his name come up in the conversation, it seemed no one knew who had been present in the Defense classroom. James wondered briefly whether Remus had blabbed, after all, but _his_ name didn't come up, either. The professors, then? Or just the usual rumors?

Whatever the case, James and his friends seemed to have gotten off scot-free. Only one girl, a third year Hufflepuff, noticed the small red cuts that peppered James' and Sirius' skin from the broken glass, and they were able to convince her easily enough that they'd merely had a bad time in Herbology earlier in the week. The whole school seemed at once relieved that no serious harm had been done this time around and more convinced than ever that something more than simple pranks was going on.

By midway through the holidays, the students who had braved the Whomping Willow just days earlier now gave the tree a wide berth, as though afraid the next attack would happen there.

But the tension soon eased, and by the end of the Easter holidays, most everyone had forgotten about the near attack. Remus returned with the other students on Sunday, looking less pale than the night the window shattered, but no less jumpy; when James, Sirius, and Peter ran into him in the common room, he ducked his head and sprinted for the dormitory stairs.

The end of term was now in sight, and several weeks flew by in a blur of notes and essays and projects piled on by professors who seemed to have suddenly realized how very much they had yet to cram into the first years' heads before the June exams.

Before they knew it, May had arrived, and despite many long and dull hours in the library, James and his friends were no nearer to discovering the identity of the dark wizard whose power had been sealed by Elfindork Endowynn in 1782. They had scoured a dozen history books, read as much as they could tolerate of all three biographies of Headmaster Endowynn (along with one that Sirius was forty pages into before he realized that it was about Elfindork Endowynn's five-times-great-granddaughter of the same name, who was herself a famous auror.) James had even read (or skimmed, at any rate) _Hogwarts: A History_ cover-to-cover, something he was sure no other student in the school had bothered to do.

It wasn't that their search came up empty – James only wished that was their problem. Rather, they had dozens of possibilities. Elfindork Endowynn had lived to a respectable age of one-hundred and five, and appeared to have been vanquishing dark wizards since he left Hogwarts in 1725. Several of these wizards showed a nasty tendency to not stay vanquished, but returned again and again to challenge Endowynn to second and third duels.

After a few days of reading up on the prestigious Headmaster, James had suggested putting together a list of all the dark wizards he had ever encountered. By the time they were done, the list included over a hundred incidents, comprising forty-six different wizards, none of which were known to have been defeated in 1782.

And so in the early days of May, James, Sirius, and Peter began to whittle down the list, striking off those whom Endowynn had never dueled, or who had caused trouble after the date on the door in the dungeons. That left a dozen wizards, of which Endowynn had defeated ten. The closest match they found was Phlygon Parenon, defeated 1780.

James was so excited to finally have a name that he rushed straight to the library from breakfast on Friday and checked out five books that mentioned Parenon, arrived late to Potions, and received a detention from Professor Slughorn and dirty looks from Lily and Remus, who had been whispering heatedly upon James' arrival. James ignored them.

"Look through these while I'm gone," James told Sirius and Peter Sunday evening, dumping the books on Peter's bed. He'd tried to look through them over the weekend, but Sirius and Peter had proved too distracting. Now he figured that as long as he had to be bored out of his mind, they might as well be the same.

Peter gave the books a morose look. "We've got to go through all that?"

"Not all of it," James said. "Just enough to know what sorts of things Parenon did, so we can get an idea of what Endowynn might have sealed behind that door."

Sirius, lying on his back on the floor between his and James' beds, gave a mock salute and reached for the bag of chocolates Mrs. Potter had sent James that week. "We'll try to get around to it."

"You'd better," James warned, doing his best impression of Lily's scolding glower. Sirius laughed, and James patted his pocket. "I'm taking Andromeda's parchment, so you can keep me updated."

Ever since Christmas, James and Sirius had put the enchanted parchment to good use, writing notes in class, keeping in contact while sneaking around the castle, and keeping themselves occupied in detention. It wasn't the quickest thing in the world, but in class or while doing lines, it usually went undetected. The professors didn't pay much attention, so long as they heard the scratching of a quill.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Better get a move on. Don't want to be late to the detention you got for being late."

With a laugh, James turned and hurried out of the dormitory. As he had hoped, Professor Slughorn had set him lines – an unimaginative "I will not be late to class" – so James was free to pull out his own parchment and begin writing on that, instead.

_How's it coming?_ he wrote, and as the ink sunk into the page, he wrote "I will not be late to class" twice on the other scroll, then glanced down at Sirius' response.

_Brilliant, _the messy handwriting said._ We've done two books a piece already._

_ Oh really? _I will not be late to class. I will not be late to class.

_Yeah. It's really fascin— _A large, dark blot of ink appeared on the page, and then the whole thing disappeared. James continued to copy his lines as he waited for the next message to appear.

At length, it did, but in Peter's small, scratchy hand. _I'm__ trying to work at it, but Sirius hasn't done a thing since you left except eat chocolate and complain._

_ Tell him those are my chocolates and he can have some when he's done some work._

_ He says to sod off._

James smothered a grin and glanced up at Slughorn, who sat at his desk, grading papers and completely ignoring James. _Well tell him if he doesn't get a move on I'll leave him behind when we go exploring tonight._

The reply this time was longer in coming, but eventually, Peter wrote, _We'll let you know if we find something._

After this, James set to work on his lines in earnest, glancing frequently at the square of enchanted parchment in case Peter or Sirius had written him, but no words appeared for the rest of James' detention. Eventually, yawning, James finished and Slughorn dismissed him.

Back in Gryffindor Tower, James found Peter and Sirius both sprawled on James' bed, Peter hugging the bag of chocolates to his chest and staring intently at the book on his lap. Sirius, too, had a book open in front of him, but he kept glancing sidelong at the chocolates and sighing heavily.

"Any luck?" James asked, squeezing onto the bed beside them.

Peter rubbed his eyes. "Not really. Those two books are useless." He gestured to the books lying on the bedside table. "Parenon's only got about two paragraphs in each of them." He nodded at the book in his lap. "This one's got a lot more, but it's all names and dates and junk."

"Same here," Sirius yawned from the foot of the bed.

"Well do any of them say anything about whatever was in that vault? Any… cursed gold? Enchanted necklaces? Haunted vases?"

Both Sirius and Peter shook their heads.

"He used his wand," Sirius groaned. "Just like everyone else."

James sighed. "Well, there's one more book, right?"

Peter passed it to him, and James began to read. It was late when he finally stopped, eyes drooping, Peter dozing on his shoulder. Sirius was out cold, drooling on the book he'd been flipping through. Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne had gone to bed over an hour ago, the curtains drawn shut around their beds.

James nudged Peter and Sirius, and they stumbled to their own beds, where they collapsed, waved their wands to close the curtains, and were snoring within minutes. James grabbed his school bag and rummaged around until he found a few scraps of parchment to mark the pages they had all left off on, then stacked the books on his desk and changed out of his school robes.

As he was climbing into bed, he glanced around and noticed thickly that one bed was still empty. Remus wasn't there.

Through his exhaustion, James felt a trickle of fear. It was late. Why was Remus still gone? Had something happened to him? Another attack?

_No, it's nothing._ James shook his head and crawled into bed. _I'm overreacting. He's fine. Just wandering around like before._ _He'll be back_. A minute later, not quite convinced that Remus' absence was entirely innocent, James fell asleep.


	19. Four

**Chapter 19: Four**

Morning came, and James woke early, instantly alert, his nerves buzzing, his heart pounding. He lay still for a moment, collecting his thoughts in the darkness, trying to remember why he was so on edge. Several long minutes ticked by. And then, he remembered.

_Remus_.

James shot upright, groping for his glasses, and scanned the dormitory. The silhouette of four beds, curtains drawn, swam into focus, and there in the corner, the fifth bed – empty. James' heart drummed faster as he scrambled to his feet and crossed to Remus Lupin's bed. It was cold, the sheets smooth and undisturbed.

"Sirius!" James hissed. "Peter! Wake up!"

Throwing back the curtains around their beds, James shook his friends awake.

"Go away," Sirius muttered, rolling over.

James tore back Sirius' blankets. "Remus is gone."

At that, Peter sat up, turned toward the bed beside his, and froze. "Where is he?"

"Who cares?" Sirius yawned loudly. "'s too early."

"I don't think he ever came back last night," James said, peeling off his pajamas and dressing quickly.

Groping for his blankets, Sirius curled into a ball and threw the scarlet comforter over his head. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by the fabric. "Since when do we care where Lupin goes?"

"Since someone's been attacking people. Now get up and get dressed. Meet me in the common room."

Peter obeyed silently, and after considerable prodding, Sirius followed suit with a string of muttered protests. Five minutes later, fully dressed and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Sirius stumped down the stairs behind Peter and joined James by the portrait hole.

"Let's go," James said.

"Go _where_?" Sirius yawned.

James stared at him. "To find Remus."

"_Why?_"

Rolling his eyes, James pushed on the back of the Fat Lady's portrait and climbed out onto the landing. "He could be hurt." _Or worse,_ he added silently._ Why didn't I look for him last night?_

"You're up early," the Fat Lady said as they started down the steps, but they ignored her. "Hmph. Fine."

James led the way first to the Great Hall, empty except for half a dozen early risers, and then to the library, more silent and dim than ever. He went next to the Defense classroom, half expecting to find Remus there watching the dark creatures Professor Juniper kept in the cages. All the dashing about had fully roused Sirius and Peter, who seemed to finally realize the gravity of the situation as they stood staring at the empty classroom.

"You think he's alright?" Peter asked in a shaky voice.

Sirius shook his head blankly and turned to James. "Hospital Wing?"

"Let's go." James spun and hurried away, Sirius and Peter on his heels. A slow trickle of students wound their way toward the Great Hall, but James ignored them, ignored the laughter and smiles and the greetings they called out.

Remus had been attacked twice already – first in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when the creatures were turned loose, and then again just before Easter when the window shattered in the middle of the night. James had assumed it was a coincidence; Remus hadn't been alone either time, though he had been hurt worse than most by the Defense creatures. James had never considered that Remus might be a target in the same way Ted and Andromeda had been. But if Remus had been attacked again…

James was all but running now, trying not to think about Andromeda, lying limp and burned on the hospital bed while Madam Pomfrey tended to her, or about Gilderoy Lockhart, Chris Stebbins, and Margaret Thurgood, unconscious at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Would Remus look like that, too, bloodied and broken? James refused to picture it.

They burst through the Hospital Wing doors as the bells tolled eight, brilliant golden sunshine filling the spacious room and illuminating two figures near the back. They had been talking, but stopped abruptly as the _thunk _of the doors hitting the wall reverberated through the room.

"Good heavens!" Madam Pomfrey gasped, hand flying to her throat as she straightened up. Her shock quickly turned to brusque displeasure and she hurried forward to shoo the trio out the door. "What do you think you're doing, barging in here like this? My patient needs rest! Run along now."

James ducked her arm and dashed to the bed in the corner, where a boy had slid low, pulling the crisp white sheets up to his nose.

"Remus!" James cried, grinning in relief. "You're alright!"

Madam Pomfrey grabbed James by the elbow. "I've told you – he needs rest. Go on! Leave him be!"

But Sirius and Peter were now gathered around the bed, and Remus sunk lower, staring around at them with wide, petrified eyes. There was a chorus of "Thank Merlin!" and "We were so worried!" before Madam Pomfrey tried once more to reassert order.

"Yes, yes! You've seen him, now shoo!"

"What happened?" Sirius asked, hopping up to sit on the wide stone windowsill, where his dark hair gleamed in the dawn light.

Peter pulled up a chair and sat down. "Was it another attack? Did you see who it was?"

"Go away," Remus whimpered, tugging his sheets still higher so his eyes only just peeped over the top. "_Please_. Just… go away."

The three boys fell silent, staring at Remus in shock.

"What?" Peter asked. "But…"

Sirius interrupted with a loud groan. "You don't still think it was us, do you?"

"We didn't have anything to do with this!" James gripped the side of the bed. "Ask Frank and Alex – we were in the dormitory all night! I noticed you weren't there when we went to bed, and then when your bed was still empty this morning…" He shuddered. "I'm just glad you're alright," he finished lamely, reaching out to place a hand on Remus' shoulder.

Remus shrank away from the gesture, and James' hand fell on the blanket, pulling it away from Remus' face. The next instant, Remus had yanked it back into place.

But James had seen.

A deep, angry red gash ran along Remus' jaw, oozing blood, gleaming with some kind of ointment. White bandages tinged with pink covered what James had seen of his neck.

James' hand hovered over the corner of the sheet, trembling. Very slowly, he lowered his arm to his side and balled his hand into a fist. "Remus…"

The boy cringed and dropped his eyes to the blanket.

"Really, now," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice pitching high. "I'm afraid I must insist!"

James ignored her. "How bad was it?" When Remus didn't answer, James leaned forward, hesitated as Remus flinched away, and then pressed on. "Show us, Remus."

At first, Remus looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink through the bed and disappear. He shot a frantic look toward Madam Pomfrey, who tried once more, futilely, to drag the three boys away from the bed. When it became apparent that they weren't going anywhere, Remus closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and sat up, letting the sheets fall away.

James gasped at the sight, Peter blanched, and Sirius shot to his feet, shock and pity and anger warring on his face. Remus' entire torso and right arm had been bandaged, but blood was oozing through in half a dozen places, and his left arm was in a sling. He hissed in pain as he leaned back against the headrest, gingerly touching one of the dark red splotches on his side.

"Remus…" James said faintly.

Remus was breathing shallowly now, and kept his eyes screwed shut.

"What happened?" Peter asked.

Still Remus remained silent.

Sirius swore loudly, and Madam Pomfrey threatened to throw him out.

"Sorry," Sirius said hastily. "But we've got to find out who's doing this. We've _got_ to stop them!"

Remus looked up sharply. "_What_?"

"These attacks," Sirius said. "They've got to stop, or someone's going to get killed!"

"You know it wasn't us," James said, pleading. "We didn't do any of it – you've _got_ to see that now."

Staring from one strained face to the next, Remus frowned ever-so-slightly. "I… I don't _know_ anything. No one does."

Sirius let out a strangled cry of frustration and turned to glare out the window, while Peter buried his face in his hands. James felt his own heart sink and dropped onto the bed next to Remus', wondering whether _anyone_ believed them anymore.

"But…" Remus said hesitantly, and all three boys glanced up hopefully. "I don't think whoever's responsible would come visit me like this."

"So you believe us?" Sirius asked excitedly, and when Remus nodded slowly, Sirius let out an exuberant whoop.

This was more than Madam Pomfrey could handle, and she shuttled James and Peter toward the door before seizing Sirius' wrist and dragging him along. "You're going to be late for class at this rate, and I certainly won't have you pestering my patient when you have more useful things to be doing."

"We'll come visit you later, okay?" James called over his shoulder, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's glower. Remus looked surprised, but as he nodded, James saw a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Then Madam Pomfrey shunted them out the door and closed them behind them with a definitive _thud_.

-.-.-

When James, Sirius, and Peter arrived at the dungeon where they had Potions, there was a crowd gathered by the door. All the other first year Gryffindors were there, conversing in hushed tones and sending glares toward the Slytherins already gathered around their cauldrons.

"Hey," said Alexander Thorne, catching sight of the trio. "Have _you _seen Remus?"

"He wasn't at breakfast this morning," Lily Evans added, fiddling with the end of her long red hair as she stood on tiptoes to peer over the top of James' head, as though expecting to see Remus hiding behind him.

Frank Longbottom looked worried, too. "I haven't seen him since last night at dinner."

"What if something's happened to him?" Lily fretted.

"Maybe Potter and Black have attacked him!" shouted Mulciber from among the Slytherins. "Just like they attacked those Ravenclaws!" There was a murmur of agreement and a few snickers from the other Slytherins, and James bristled.

Just then, however, Professor Slughorn appeared in the corridor, shaking his head. "What's all this then? Into the classroom now."

"Please, Professor," Lily said, looking on the verge of tears. "Have you seen Remus? We don't know where he's gone off to, and now they're saying he's been attacked!"

Slughorn gave Lily a soothing pat on the shoulder and smiled. "There now, nothing to worry about. Remus is fine. He's just –"

"But he _has_ been attacked!" Sirius protested.

A hush fell over the class, and every eye turned to Sirius, who flushed red at the accusation present in some of the looks.

"Attacked?" Slughorn asked, frowning deeply. "Nonsense!"

"It's true!" James argued. "We've just been to see him in the Hospital Wing."

Slughorn spluttered at this statement. "W-what?"

"Oh my god!" Lily gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "Is he alright?"

James rubbed the back of his neck. "Er… well, it could've been worse…"

"He's awake," Sirius offered, avoiding Lily's eyes. "So that's something."

The class dissolved into chaos at this as the Gryffindors prodded James, Sirius, and Peter for more information and the Slytherins jeered at them from across the room. It was a full ten minutes before Slughorn could get them all under control.

But eventually they got down to business, mixing a potion to cure boils. James was more careful with his potion than usual, and Sirius took extensive notes, figuring Remus might like to look at them. Several people came to deliver messages to Professor Slughorn during the hour, and all the Gyrffindors discussed their contents as they walked to the Defense classroom on the third floor.

"It's got to be about the attacks," said Alice Howard, who was looking rather pale.

Frank frowned. "But why so many notes?"

"Maybe they're trying to figure out what happened," Mary Macdonald suggested.

"Or who did it," Sirius added.

There was an vague rumble of agreement, though James got the impression that more than a few of his fellow Gryffindors found it suspicious that the trio had been the ones to discover Remus' attack, when even the professors seemed not to have known about it.

The truth was, that bothered James, too. Why hadn't Slughorn known about the attack? James had thought that Remus had been attacked the night before, but if that was the case, surely all the professors would have been notified by now. But if Remus had only been attack that morning, where had he been all night? Or had he been attacked last night and only been discovered in the morning? Had he been alone and hurting all night?

James walked in silence all the way to the Defense classroom, where they found Professor Juniper, looking as troubled as any of the students.

But Juniper gathered himself quickly and began to lecture. As they had in Potions, James and Sirius paid more attention than normal, and James took notes for Remus, writing down as much of what Juniper said as he could.

As soon as class was over, they sprinted down to the Hospital Wing, taking two secret passages to save themselves a few minutes. They weren't sure whether Madam Pomfrey would still be upset with them after the furor they'd caused that morning, but they figured they didn't have to give her an excuse to throw them out the minute they arrived, so they slowed down just outside the massive wooden doors and pushed them open quietly.

"Oh, it's you again." Madam Pomfrey stood beside Remus' bed, scowling. "Didn't you listen this morning? He needs _rest_, not all this excitement."

"No, it's alright," Remus mumbled, smiling shyly at the three boys. "I don't mind."

Madam Pomfrey's demeanor softened as she turned back to Remus. "Are you sure?" When Remus nodded, she turned back to James, Sirius, and Peter. "Fifteen minutes." And she disappeared into her office.

Beaming, James led the way across the room. Remus sat up and moved his legs to make room for the other three to sit down, and James saw that he was dressed once more in his school robes, which hid most of his wounds. The gash on the jaw still glistened with ointment, but his arm was no longer in a sling. As James sat down, Remus twisted the edge of the sheets in his hands and stared fixedly at James' knee.

"I wasn't sure you'd come back."

James shot Sirius a bemused smile and rolled his eyes. "Of course we came back."

Remus smiled a little more broadly.

"How're you feeling, Remus?" Peter asked.

With a shrug, Remus raised a hand to the cut on his jaw. "Fine. I think Madam Pomfrey will let me out in time for History of Magic."

"You sure you're up for that?" Sirius asked, eyeing the bandages just visible under his robes. "It doesn't look like Madam Pomfrey's finished healing you yet."

Color rose in Remus' cheeks and he shrugged. "I'll be fine. I don't want to miss any more classes than I have to."

"Oh!" James picked up his school bag from where he had dropped it on the floor. "Speaking of – we took notes for you."

"You— What?"

Sirius grinned and snatched his own bag. "In Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Here." He took James' Defense notes, stacked his own Potions notes on top of them and handed them to Remus, who flipped through the pages, his mouth hanging open.

"Th-thanks."

"Don't mention it," James said.

At the sound of the doors creaking open, all four boys turned to see who it was.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," said Lily Evans, tucking her hair behind her ear, but a moment later her expression soured. "Oh, it's you."

Her greasy-haired Slytherin friend, Severus Snape, looked from James to Sirius, lip curling in disgust. "Let's just go, Lily."

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to think better of it, and dropped his eyes to his lap.

"Snivellus is right, Evans," Sirius smirked. "Sod off."

Lily drew herself up to her full height and crossed her arms. "We have just as much right to be here as _you_, Black. Remus is _my _friend."

"He's ours, too!" James shot back.

"_What_ is all this racket?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, appearing at her office door with a deep frown on her face. She took in the newcomers with a glance, then glared at James, Sirius, and Peter. "Do I have to ask you to leave again?"

Severus smirked at them, and Sirius reached for his wand, but James grabbed his hand and shook his head. "Not here." To Madam Pomfrey, he said, "We were just leaving."

"Good." She looked once more at Lily and Severus. "Let's hope you two show a bit more courtesy."

"You don't have to worry about us, ma'am," Lily said, glaring at James, who was stuffing his things back into his school bag. "We won't be long."

Rolling his eyes, James turned back to Remus. "Stay here as long as you have to."

"But… History of Magic…."

"You know how Binns is," Sirius said with a smirk. "Who's ever learned a thing from him? It's faster to read the book. And less boring."

"That's funny," Severus sneered. "I didn't think you knew how to read, Black."

James ignored him. "Anyway, we'll take notes for you, so don't rush yourself."

"Excuse me," Lily said, stalking across the room to glare at him. "When have you _ever_ stayed awake through a whole lecture of Professor Binns'? _I'll_ take notes for him, just like I have _every_ time he's missed class. I'm sure my notes will be much more useful to him than _yours_."

"Better watch your head, Evans. If it gets any bigger, you're going to have trouble fitting through the doors."

"Weren't you leaving, Potter?"

James snorted, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the door. Behind him, Sirius took great care to knock into Severus as he passed. Peter scrambled to follow, calling, "Bye, Remus," over his shoulder.

"Bye," Remus muttered, smiling feebly.

-.-.-

When James, Sirius, and Peter returned to Gryffindor Tower from History of Magic that afternoon, they found Remus sleeping in the boys' dormitory.

"Should we wake him?" James asked, tossing his bag onto his bed.

Sirius was already standing beside Remus, looking ready to pounce on top of him.

"Sirius!" Peter yelped.

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, James dragged Sirius away from the bed. "I don't think Remus would appreciate you _jumping_ on him."

"I do it to you all the time."

"I know," said James. "And trust me, he won't like it."

"Besides," Peter added. "He's hurt."

"So?"

Just then, Remus let out a soft moan and opened his eyes. Sirius put on an innocent smile.

"Hey, Rems!"

Remus frowned at the nickname, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he merely said, "You're back."

"Yeah," Sirius said. "Here's your notes."

Remus sat up, rubbed his eyes, and took the parchment Sirius held out. "You actually stayed awake?"

James laughed as he crossed to his bedside table. "We took it in shifts."

Remus chuckled at this, and James noticed that it made him seem a little lighter, a little less somber than he usually was. The change was a good one, James decided, and he resolved to make Remus laugh more in the future.

The stack of books on Phlygon Parenon sat where James had set them the night before. The sheer volume of text they still had to wade through was daunting, but James knew the longer he put it off, the harder it would be to force himself to start. So he grabbed the book he had been reading, stretched out on his bed, and opened to the page he had marked.

"What's that you're reading?" Remus asked, rubbing his neck.

"This?" James glanced at Sirius and Peter, who shrugged. "Er… It's a long story."

And he began to explain everything to Remus – the door, the runes, the missing object, and the inscription that had led them to research Elfindork Endowynn's life history. He told Remus about all the dark wizards they had learned about, and why they now thought Parenon the best match to the one mentioned in the inscription, but were having trouble digging up any useful information on him. He even haltingly relayed their suspicions about Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black, and the Carrows, Amycus and Alecto.

"So basically," Sirius said when James had finished. "We know next to nothing."

"But you're still looking?" Remus asked.

Peter shrugged and grabbed the second book in the stack. "What else can we do?"

"If we don't figure out what's going on, people will keep getting hurt," James said.

Remus gaped at them all. "I had no idea…" He was silent for a long minute, then stood stiffly. "You said you made a list of all the dark wizards Endowynn encountered?"

"Huh? Yeah." James opened his desk drawer and withdrew the crumpled parchment. "It's right here."

Taking the list, Remus scanned the names, brows furrowed. At length, he nodded and started toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asked.

"The library. I'll see what I can find on these other names."

Remus tucked the list into his pocket and disappeared through the dormitory door.

* * *

**A/N: With fear and friendship, scars and a stack of sloppy notes, it was a day that changed Remus Lupin's life forever— Chapter five of _Moony's Story_, "May 1972: Friends" is up! **


	20. Fruits of His Labor

**Chapter 20: Fruits of His Labor**

For the next several weeks, Remus was the star of the school. Everyone wanted to know the elusive details of what had happened the night of May eighth, and when Remus declined to elaborate, the rumor mill cranked into full gear. Some said a troll had been spotted on the grounds earlier in the evening; others said some Slytherins had attacked him after hours. Everything from hippogriffs to dark magic to vampires had been implicated, and a third year Ravenclaw even suggested something called a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, which James suspected he had made up on the spot.

At times, James wondered whether Remus even realized how many people were talking about him. He kept to himself as much as ever, such that James, Sirius, and Peter hardly saw him except at meals, in class, and about an hour before curfew each night, when he finally returned from the library.

They didn't hear much about his research, except that he couldn't be sure about anything just yet.

A week passed before Sirius grew impatient and convinced James and Peter to ask Remus directly. And so, just before dinner on Tuesday, the three of them made their way to the library, which was packed full of students studying for exams. They wound their way among the tables and rows of bookcases, searching for their scrawny, scarred friend.

Eventually, they found him, all but buried under three haphazard stacks of books, a scroll of parchment before him, his quill flying across the page as he scrawled some notes, pausing every few seconds to check the book lying open before him.

"Found you," Sirius grunted, dropping into a chair across from Remus.

Remus started and looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"Sirius got tired of waiting," Peter explained, eyeing the stack of books nearest him. "Are you planning on getting through all these?"

With a shrug, Remus flipped the page in the open book. "Hour for dinner, hour to finish up tomorrow's homework… I'll be back before curfew – though…" He glanced up at them, arching his eyebrow. "I don't think _you_ care much about that."

James laughed. "True. But don't you wanna take a break?"

"I'm fine." Remus returned his attention to the books, flipped a few more pages, and then snapped the book shut and set it atop the tallest stack, which wobbled dangerously.

Sirius moved the center stack, the smallest of the three, and peered at the parchment. "Merlin's beard, Remus!" he exclaimed, snatching up the parchment and ogling it. Tiny writing covered all but the bottom inch of the page. "Have you done all this in a _week_?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus muttered, grabbing the next book from the medium-sized stack. "That's just from today." He reached under the table for his school bag and pulled out a thick stack of parchment. "This is the rest of it."

He set the stack down for the others to look at and took back the latest page from Sirius, cracked open his new book, and started reading. James rifled through the rest of the notes, staggered by the sheer amount of writing. How had Remus found this much time?

Each name from the list James, Sirius, and Peter had compiled had an entry in Remus' notes, some only a line or two, others nearly a full scroll of parchment by themselves. Various dates had been circled, and a few of the names had been underlined with a single dark stroke. James tried reading the top sheet, but the tiny writing made his eyes hurt, and he quickly gave it up.

They sat in silence for a while, but when, a quarter of an hour later, Remus closed his book and set it on the tallest pile, James spoke up.

"It's dinner time, you know."

Startled, Remus checked his watch. "Already?" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I've got, let's see—" He eyed the stacks— "five more? And… three here." He looked thoughtful, then nodded. With a flick of his wand, he levitated the tallest tower of books to a nearby re-shelving cart, which set off at once to return the books to their proper places. "Would you mind checking some of those out?" he asked, nodding to the medium-sized stack, which had five books left. Remus, after shoving the notes back into his bag, picked up the three books in the remaining stack. "I'll finish up in the common room tonight."

James gave Sirius a bewildered look, but Sirius just shrugged, so they divided the five books amongst themselves and went to sign them out with Madam Pince. Almost immediately, however, Remus seemed to regret giving up his books, and he tried to take them back. James and Sirius refused to give them up until after dinner, but Peter relented more easily. They walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall with Remus' nose buried in _The Dark Deeds of Drurius Dropple._

James and Sirius sat on either side of Remus, but despite their best efforts, they could hardly make him glance up from the page. In fact, it was all they could do to get him to eat. Eventually, they retreated to the common room, where Remus nicked the books in James' and Sirius' bags and returned to his research.

The sun was setting by the time Remus set aside the last book and stretched, letting out a long breath.

"Done?" James asked.

Remus nodded. "It looks like—"

"Wait," Sirius interrupted, glancing around the crowded common room. "Not here."

Remus frowned, but gathered his things and followed the others to the dormitory, where the four of them gathered on Sirius' bed. James drew the curtains closed and cast the quieting charm before gesturing for Remus to go on."

"Was that… the counter-charm for _Sonorus_?" Remus asked, staring at the curtains as though he could see the magic working.

"Never mind _that_," James said. "What've you found?"

Although Remus looked like he wanted to hear more about the charm, he didn't ask. Instead, he rifled through his notes, pulling out a handful of pages and setting the rest aside, along with the five books he'd spent the evening going through. Next, he grabbed the other three books, the ones he himself had checked out, and spread them out on the bed. James read the titles. There was _The Hunt for Horwell Umbre,_ _Frederick del Bene: The Unabridged Tale, _and _1779: Year of Terror._

"Okay…" Sirius said slowly. "Mind explaining?"

Remus pulled out yet another piece of parchment – the list James, Sirius, and Peter had made of dark wizards Endowynn had encountered. "I went through this list – just to see if any other dark wizards might fit that inscription you found."

"What, didn't trust _our_ research?" Sirius grumbled, at which Remus looked immensely uncomfortable, but James rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him. What did you come up with?"

Remus stared at Sirius a moment longer before clearing his throat and turning his eyes back to his notes. "Well… I went through all the names, like you did, and I narrowed it down, but I looked for different things than you did."

"Like what?" Peter asked.

"I started off the same as you – ruling out dark wizards who caused trouble after 1782. I mean, if Endowynn sealed the last of this person's power then, he shouldn't have been able to do anything big after that, right?"

"Right," James said. "That's what we thought, too. Then what?"

Remus worried his lip for a moment, then plunged ahead. "Well, I know you only looked at the people Endowynn finished off, and that you looked for the duels that happened closest to the date in that inscription, but… I don't know that either of those is very helpful."

"Why not?"

After a moment's pause, during which James suspected Remus was gauging whether or not the other boys were mad at him for disagreeing, Remus swallowed and licked his lips. "The inscription said that Endowynn sealed the last of this wizard's power, right? And there was some kind of object in there – not a body, or a tomb or anything. So Endowynn didn't have to have dueled him at all, just found something he left behind – which means whoever it was might have been killed years earlier."

"So it wasn't Parenon?" Peter asked.

"I… I don't _think_ so," Remus said apologetically.

With a groan, Sirius flopped backward onto the pillow. "All that reading for nothing!" His eyes flicked to Remus. "But you've got another lead."

"Yes – maybe – three, actually." Remus nodded toward the three books in front of him. "I figured if... whatever it was... was sealed here at Hogwarts, then there had to be a reason for that, so I looked for dark wizards with a grudge against the school, or against Endowynn, who were defeated sometime before 1782 and had used cursed objects. I found three.

"Horwell Umbre," Remus said, picking up the leftmost book, "was expelled from Hogwarts in his sixth year after he smuggled in a cursed box that killed another boy. He went on the run after that, leaving all sorts of cursed objects behind to slow up anyone who tried to follow him. Endowynn was on the team of aurors who brought him down in 1759 – that was just before Endowynn came to teach at Hogwarts. Umbre might have left another cursed object in the school, one that wasn't discovered until 1782."

Remus paused to give them time to absorb the information, then picked up the next book in line. "The dark wizard Frederick del Bene did a little bit of everything. Started off hexing muggles, then took to terrorizing the wizarding world. He used spells, poisons, cursed objects, booby traps – you name it, he used it. First came to power in 1771, caused trouble for a good five years, then came to Hogwarts, where he launched a full-scale attack. Dozens of students injured or killed, even a professor sent to St. Mungo's. Endowynn defeated him in 1777, and dementors were called in to give him the Kiss straight away. There were some incidents in the next few years that some say they can trace back to del Bene, but nothing's certain."

There was another pause as Remus grabbed the last book.

"And then there was someone who called himself Retribution. They never found out who he really was – when they cornered him in November of 1779, he was wearing a mask and blew himself up rather than be taken alive.

"Anyway, that whole year, there was this cursed necklace that kept popping up in the muggle world. Must've killed at least a dozen people. Each time, Endowynn got a note from Retribution, saying it was all to pay muggles back for the persecution of wizarding kind – _Endowynn_, not the Ministry or anything. Maybe Retribution had a bone to pick with him, or maybe he thought Endowynn would understand, who knows?

"No one knows what happened to the necklace, either. It just sort of disappeared after the last attack. The Ministry assured everyone they'd already found and destroyed it, but there were all sorts of witnesses who said they were looking for it for years before they finally stopped. Some people reckon it's still out there."

Remus stopped abruptly, weighed the book in his hand, and set it carefully back in place beside the other two.

James was the first to speak, his eyes wandering from cover to dusty cover. "So we've got three wizards who might have left a cursed object in the school… Which one did?" While Sirius and Peter shrugged, Remus smoothed the bedspread absently and avoided James' questioning look. James frowned. "What is it, Remus?"

Glancing up quickly, Remus bit his lip and shook his head. "No – nothing."

"Well," said Sirius after a moment. "I'd say it's probably not this Retribution fellow."

James tore his eyes away from Remus and tried to think. "Oh? How come?"

"He was all about attacking muggles, right? Not even muggle-borns? So why would he want to attack Hogwarts?"

"That's true," Peter said with a tone of surprise.

"Besides which," James said, mulling over what Remus had said. "Retribution isn't really a name, is it? So wouldn't Andromeda have been able to translate it?"

Sirius nodded. "You would think so."

"So Retribution's out." James glanced to Remus. "You agree?"

Remus nodded.

"Let me see your notes."

Remus handed them over, and James scanned through them. Both Umbre and del Bene, he saw, took up a large section of parchment. Lists of incidents, victims, and dates followed the names in chronological order, some labeled "Endowynn." The date of death for each was circled and followed by a brief summary. As Remus had said, Umbre had been cornered by aurors in 1759 and killed in a duel, while del Bene had been defeated by Endowynn at Hogwarts in 1777. After del Bene's death date, there was another list of incidents, all of them followed by a question mark.

It took a moment for James to realize that each one had taken place at Hogwarts.

"It's del Bene," James said. "It's got to be."

"You sure?" Sirius asked.

James was far from sure, but he held out Remus' notes. "Look at all that stuff that happened after he died."

"But that's all guesswork," Remus pointed out. "It might not have been him at all."

"I know," James admitted, furrowing his brow. "But nothing's been traced back to Umbre at all, let alone anything that's happened at Hogwarts. If even one of those things on del Bene's list is true, it could explain why that chamber's in the dungeons."

After a pause Remus nodded. "Alright. So something of del Bene's was sealed in the dungeons."

"Right," James said with a nod.

"But then, sometime between December and February, somebody opened the door and took it."

"Yep."

"And now they're using it to attack the school?"

"Mm-hmm."

A silence.

Peter spoke up timidly. "What do we do now?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Remus asked. "We've got to go to the professors."

"No way!" Sirius protested. "They might be in on it!"

Remus looked more than a little dubious, but Peter shrank back in fear. "Do you really think a professor would do that?"

"Do _you_ really think a student could get past all those enchantments Endowynn put on that door?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence while the four of them retreated into their own thoughts. The idea that a professor was involved had been brought up before, but that didn't mean it sat any better with James now. Someone running around the school attacking people with a cursed object was a terrifying enough prospect; how much more if that someone was a professor?

And _which _professor would have done it? McGonagall, who handed out detentions for a simple hex in the corridors? Flitwick, who greeted his class with a cheery smile every day? Juniper, who was something of a co-conspirator with the school pranksters? James wouldn't believe it of any of them.

"Let's go to the Headmaster," Remus said suddenly.

Sirius looked at him incredulously. "Weren't you listening? _He_ might be in on it, too!"

"Professor Dumbledore would never—"

"We don't know that!"

"Yes, we do."

Peter interrupted with a stammer, "D-don't fight! Please!"

Sirius spun toward Peter, eyes gleaming. "C'mon, Pete! You agree with me, don't you?"

"W-w-well," Peter said, licking his lips. "I – I think we should go to the professors." Peter's voice trailed away rapidly so that James had to strain to hear the last word.

Scowling, Sirius turned to James. "_James?_"

James hesitated. "I think we should figure out who we can trust before we tell anyone."

"And _then_…" Remus prompted.

"And then we'll tell them what we've figured out. Agreed?"

Sirius, Peter, and Remus, exchanged fleeting glances. "Agreed."


	21. Death and Disappearance

**Chapter 21: Death and Disappearance**

"You know, there's still one thing I don't get."

James met Sirius' eyes across the table at lunch a few days later, then both boys turned toward Remus, who had paused with his fork halfway to his mouth to speak. Peter, who sat beside James across from Remus, ladled more soup into his mouth, watching the others with curiosity.

"What's that?" James asked.

Remus checked to ensure that no one was listening in on their conversation, then leaned in a bit closer and answered in a whisper. "We've been working under the assumption that there was a cursed object in that vault."

Furrowing his brow, Sirius prodded his lasagna, though he kept his eyes on Remus. "Yeah…? What else needs that kind of security? I mean, we know it belonged to a dark wizard, and it wasn't very big."

"Besides," James added. "Look at all the attacks that've happened since it was taken."

"That's what's confusing me." Remus set his fork down. "I don't know a whole lot about curses, but I've read a couple books in the last few days, and it doesn't sound like what's been going on is a curse."

"What do you mean?"

Remus sent another furtive look down the table. "Most cursed objects just kill the person that touches it, or cause pain or whatever. I haven't found any record of one that can affect things at a distance."

Already Sirius was shaking his head. "I don't see your point."

"Okay, look," Remus said. "From what I've read, a curse on an object is almost always triggered by touch, and it _always _targets the person doing the touching. But think about the attacks – what were the actual targets of the magic?" He began to count them off on his fingers before the others could respond. "The cages in the Defense classroom. The step in the south staircase. Ted and Andromeda's potion. And that window. None of the attacks targeted people directly, let alone someone who was touching a – a necklace or a galleon or something."

"What about you?" James asked.

"Huh?" Remus frowned; a moment later, his eyes widened in comprehension. "Oh! Oh – no, no. I, er, don't remember much, but I wasn't touching anything cursed, I don't think."

James frowned. Remus was acting rather suspicious, and now that James thought of it, they never _had_ gotten a full account of whatever had happened that night over a week ago. Remus' wounds had healed – slowly, judging by the stiffness in the boy's gait and the care with which he sat down in the days following the incident. But by now, Remus seemed back to full strength, and the cut on his jaw was just a faint pink line.

"What… what _did_ happen?" James ventured. "Was it a dark creature, like everyone says?"

Remus' cringe didn't escape James' notice – nor Sirius', if the deepening creases in his forehead were anything to go by. But Remus gave himself a small shake and shrugged. "I – I don't know. Yeah – I guess. Maybe. Listen, I – I'd rather not talk about it."

After a beat of silence, Sirius grabbed his goblet of pumpkin juice, drained it in one gulp, and set it back on the table with a clatter that drew a few odd looks from the other Gryffindors. Soon enough, though, they turned away.

"So – what?" Sirius asked. "If it's not a cursed… whatever… then what _is_ it?"

Remus shook his head and caught up his fork with a short, jerky swipe. "I don't know."

-.-.-

Throughout the coming days, hardly an hour passed without one of the four boys bringing up the subject of the attacks, the vault, and del Bene. Peter asked a dozen times a day whether they ought to tell the teachers what they knew, and James could tell Remus was inclined to agree with him, though the slight boy held his tongue more often than not. Even the Quidditch final failed to capture their attention, and James hardly paused to commiserate with the team when Gryffindor lost to Ravenclaw by a measly thirty points.

They tried to keep their discussions private, both because they could not be sure who was behind the attacks, and because they didn't want to raise a panic that might alert the culprit. The first four attacks had happened within two months, but in the last six weeks, there had been just the one on Remus. James wasn't sure whether the culprit was losing interest, preparing for something big, or just otherwise occupied, but the one thing the four of them agreed on was that they didn't want to spook him into attacking again before they knew everything – or at least enough to go to a trustworthy professor.

Nevertheless, Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne were bound to notice the clandestine discussions that took place each night behind drawn curtains, the whispers and furtive glances, the constant stream of notes that passed back and forth during every lesson that week. James wasn't sure just how much they had picked up on, but it was obvious they were growing suspicious.

With exams less than two weeks away, Remus spent more and more time studying, and less and less time investigating. All too often, Peter stayed back with Remus while James and Sirius snuck out under the invisibility cloak to eavesdrop on professors. They discovered nothing to indicate guilt on the part of any professor, and equally little evidence of their trustworthiness.

Worst of all was the not knowing. There were times James had nearly convinced himself that the attacks were a thing of the past, that all this research and investigation was a fruitless endeavor. Nearly as often, of course, James was gripped with a terrible conviction that one last, devastating attack was yet to come.

-.-.-

The Saturday a week before the start of exams began normally enough: a raucous breakfast that gave way to a penetrating silence as the students buckled down to study. Since OWLs and NEWTs were spread out over two weeks, they were due to begin in just two days, and the fifth and seventh years were looking correspondingly anxious. Aside from the occasional patter of footsteps in the hall, hushed conversations, and distant laughter from the smattering of students studying or procrastinating outside, Hogwarts remained as silent as though it were the dead of summer.

James sat in the common room with his friends, Potions book propped open on his knee, during one of the ever-more-frequent study sessions set up by Remus, but his eyes kept drifting to the open window, through which sunlight and a warm breeze drifted. He didn't get why Remus was making him study. They had a whole week left, and James figured he could pass all his exams with an hour of studying, tops. The classes weren't really that tough in first year, after all. And Remus and Peter had been studying for weeks already; how much more could they possibly have to revise?

Across the way, Sirius glanced up from his notes and caught James eye. He tapped the parchment on which he had been writing and winked.

Hiding his grin (though Remus was too engrossed in an old Transfigurations essay to notice anything), James reached over to tap Peter on the shoulder. "Can I borrow your Potions notes?"

After a startled moment, Peter's face flushed with pride – Potions was the only subject in which Peter truly excelled, the one area in which he outshone his three friends. "They're in my bag," he mumbled, nudging the bag toward James, who nodded his thanks and rummaged through the mess of parchment and school books. Since James and Sirius always sat together, they'd let Peter borrow one of Andromeda's pieces of parchment during their last class. A moment later, James found what he was looking for and pulled it out, along with Peter's Potions notes.

_I'm dying_, the square parchment said in Sirius' scrawl.

James smirked, but quickly smothered it. _Shall I call Madam Pomfrey?_

_ No, that's alright. I'll just waste away here…. What a way to go – death by History of Magic._

James started to snicker, but disguised it as a cough in time to ward of Remus' reproachful look. He bent down so his nose was nearly touching the parchment, his grin well hidden. _Merlin, Sirius, what are you studying History for? It would've put me to sleep by now._

A shout from outside drew a heavy sigh from Sirius, and Remus' golden eyes flickered his way. Sirius obediently shut his mouth, but his quill flew across the page.

_Wish I could be out there. We could be swimming right now, or flying. Hey, you think the game's started up again? The one with the Willow?_

_ Maybe. I haven't thought about it for a while._

_ Me either,_ Sirius wrote. _Not until just now…. I'd rather be killed by a tree than by exams, though, wouldn't you?_

James rolled his eyes, but another chorus of laughter drifted in through the window. _That __does__ sound like fun…._

_ Think we can give Remus the slip?_

_ Probably. _Pausing, James glanced at the top of Peter's blond head, which was buried in his school bag as he put away Charms and dug out Herbology. _Should we invite Pete?_

Before Sirius could answer, there came another shout. Remus snapped his book shut and stalked to the window, muttering to himself. "What _are_ they doing out there? You'd think they could show a bit… more…"

Something outside had caught his eye, and Remus paled, jaw working soundlessly. Then he whirled and dashed for the portrait hole, knocking into a table on his way and scattering parchment. The students' protests chased him out of the common room. In the far corner, the prefect Eliot Donovan looked up from his OWL revision and said, very huffily, "_Well._"

Exchanging a confused look with Sirius and Peter, James stood and crossed to the window, searching for what might have made Remus run out of the room like that. It didn't take long to find. Off in the distance, on the rise of land between the lake and the forest, sat the Whomping Willow, thrashing branches sending showers of emerald leaves down on the heads of the tiny figures weaving toward its trunk.

Behind him, Sirius made a small sound of understanding as he stepped up to the window with Peter, who breathed a sigh halfway between disappointment and relief. The game had never come up in conversation since Remus had become their friend, and James, at least, had been in no hurry to breach the subject. He wanted to believe Remus had lightened up enough to let it slide, but he hadn't wanted to risk it.

"I guess he's still a prat," Sirius muttered, shaking his head. "Off to tell the professors, I suppose?"

"Not if we stop him," James said, already turning toward the portrait hole with the other two in tow.

They had hardly made the landing beyond, however, when Professor McGonagall's voice rang out, magically transmitted throughout the castle and grounds.

"_All staff, report to the staffroom immediately. All students, return to your common rooms. Your Heads of House will be there shortly._"

After a moment's pause, the message repeated itself, but James, Sirius, and Peter stood rooted to the spot, staring at each other and at the empty staircase around them.

"Well?" said the Fat Lady behind them when the message began a third time and they still had not moved. "What are you waiting for? You heard her – into the common room with you!"

Peter turned slowly, but James and Sirius ignored the Fat Lady. "What's happened?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know." James glanced around. "Where's Remus?"

All three boys exchanged a frightened glance, but before they could voice their fears, Remus himself appeared, red-faced and panting, at the next landing. Without a word, he turned and shot up the stairs, gasped out the password, and dragged the others through the portrait hole after him.

The students who had been studying in the common room, along with those who had come down from the dormitories, bombarded them with questions the moment they appeared.

"What's happened?"

"Why'd they have to go and interrupt our studying? The OWLs are only two days away!"

"Where's McGonagall?"

James tried to shout over the other Gryffindors that he didn't know; he'd only just been in the Grand Staircase when the message had started. But too many people were talking, and with McGonagall's voice still repeating that all students were to return to the common rooms, James couldn't make himself heard.

Finally, when the first students returning from the rest of the castle tumbled through the portrait hole five minutes later, Remus was able to drag the other three into the corner where they'd been studying.

"There's been another attack," he whispered urgently.

"Who?" James demanded at once.

"Where?" Sirius said at the same time.

"What happened?" Peter added.

Remus shushed them and hurried to explain. "I don't know – I was looking for Professor McGonagall, and all of a sudden there was lots of shouting, and some of the professors came running down the hall. Professor Sprout said something about Professor Dumbledore going to talk to Madam Pomfrey, and everyone was talking all at once. I – I couldn't make much out, but it sounded like someone had been hurt, and when they saw me, they told me to come back here, and I was halfway up the stairs when the announcement started—"

He fell silent as McGonagall's disembodied voice cut off mid-sentence. Students were still pouring through the portrait hole, but the common room was now packed with students dashing about, looking for friends, gathering up notes and homework, or complaining loudly about all the noise.

A moment later, McGonagall herself appeared, shooing the last stragglers in and calling for silence. In no time at all, every eye in the common room was on her, every mouth shut.

"I'm afraid I have grave news," McGonagall began, seeming to look at each of them in turn before she continued. "Earlier this morning, there was another attack – _yes_, Mr. Donovan, an attack. I'm afraid there is no longer any doubt that the events of the past few months were, indeed, deliberate, and perpetrated by a highly skilled wizard."

In the space of a breath, the room exploded.

"Who's doing it, Professor?"

"Have you caught them?"

The questions bounced around, students growing ever more frantic. Several looked to be on the verge of tears, and a second year named Rhonda Red had begun to hyperventilate.

Someone across the room shouted a question that made them all shut up: "Who was attacked?"

McGonagall looked grim, and James felt his heart begin to race. He glanced around frantically, searching for familiar faces. Finally, McGonagall spoke. "Frank Longbottom."

"No!" Sirius cried, and he wasn't the only one. Across the room, Alice Howard paled, seizing Lily Evans by the elbow.

"Is he alright?" James asked.

"He will be," McGonagall said, adding in an undertone, "Thank Merlin." Shaking herself, she assumed a compassionate, though reserved, expression. "Madam Pomfrey is tending to him, and she has assured us that his injuries are not life-threatening."

The Gryffindors breathed a collective sigh of relief, but James' attention remained fixed on Professor McGonagall, who had opened her mouth to continue. But as the murmur of conversation died down, she snapped her mouth shut and regarded them all critically.

"Um – Professor?" Lily asked, raising her hand as though they were in class. "The person who's responsible – have you caught him?"

James knew before McGonagall spoke that the answer was no, but she assured them all that the staff was already searching the castle. "As long as you stay here, you won't be in any danger. We will alert you of any new developments. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Conversations erupted all around the common room as McGonagall turned to leave.

"We've got to tell her," Remus said suddenly, starting forward. Without hesitation, James, Sirius, and Peter followed him. "Professor!" Remus called as McGonagall stepped out onto the landing. "Wait!"

They tumbled out of the portrait hole and found McGonagall frowning at them, her gaze darting this way and that. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin, but I must insist you remain—"

"Professor, wait!" James protested, but McGonagall ignored him.

"I mean it, Mr. Potter. Get back—"

"This is important!" Remus cut across, startling everyone, even Remus himself, who flushed red as McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes, "but this can't wait."

"Is that so?" McGonagall asked tightly. "And _what_, pray tell, is so urgent?"

Remus swallowed audibly and turned to his friends to explain.

"It's a curse," James began. "That's what's been causing all the attacks – a cursed object."

Disdain was evident in McGonagall's face. "Mr. Potter, no cursed object could possibly—"

"There's a vault," James said. "In the dungeons. We found it at the beginning of the year, but we couldn't open it."

"But someone else _did_," Sirius added. "It's open, and something was taken."

"That's _enough_. Back in the common room – all of you."

And they were shunted back though the portrait hole before they could say another word. For a long moment, no one spoke. James stared numbly at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait, his thoughts slow and muddled. She hadn't listened. There had been another attack – Frank had been attacked – and McGonagall hadn't listened to them. She didn't know what was really going on.

James shook himself out of his stupor and glanced around at his friends. "Dormitory," he said shortly, and led the way to the stairs.

No one noticed them go; they were all too busy talking about the attack. The noise fell away as they climbed the stairs into the dark, quiet tower. They reached their dormitory momentarily and shut the door behind them. Remus remained standing by the door, looking faintly green, as Sirius began to pace the center of the room and Peter collapsed on his bed. James, meanwhile, crossed to his trunk and grabbed the invisibility cloak.

"What's that for?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"She's not telling us something." James let the cloak run through his hands like so much water, then tucked it in the crook of his elbow and shut his trunk with a snap. When he turned around, he realized that the others were staring at him, confused. "McGonagall. There's something she's not telling us."

"What makes you say that?" Sirius asked.

James glanced over to Frank's empty bed. "When she was telling us about Frank, she looked like she was going to say something else."

"But what didn't she want to say?" Peter asked, looking up at them nervously.

"That's what I want to know." James patted the cloak. "What do you say we find out?"

-.-.-

The hardest part was getting out of Gryffindor Tower. Although some students had disappeared to their dormitories to escape the press of the common room or to try to get in some more revision for their exams, there was still a considerable crowd standing between the four first years and their escape. They tossed around a few ideas before James took matters into his own hands and set off the last of the dungbombs Sirius had given him for Christmas. In the ensuing chaos, they were able to slip out through the portrait hole.

"What do you think you're doing?" the Fat Lady protested shrilly. "You aren't supposed to be out! Get back here! You can't just—"

"Sorry," James called over his shoulder. "We've got to."

From there, it was easy enough to disappear under the invisibility cloak and slip through the deserted corridors toward the Hospital Wing. The Arithmancy and Astronomy professors – Septima Vector and Tycho Ruche – stood guard outside, and James thought they stood no chance of getting in. But then Madam Pomfrey emerged to check with the two professors, and the boys were able to slip past her into the Hospital Wing.

Frank lay on the bed nearest Madam Pomfrey's office. James slipped out from under the invisibility cloak.

"Keep an eye out," he whispered to the empty space where he knew his friends must be. "I'll be quick."

He heard a rustle that must have meant the others were moving to where they could see the door, and James tiptoed to Frank's bed. Frank showed no outward sign of damage, but the mountain of empty flasks on his bedside table made James' breath catch in his throat.

"Frank?" he whispered, reaching out to touch the other boy's hand.

Frank groaned softly, and James sent a frantic look toward the door. But Madam Pomfrey appeared not to have noticed. James turned back to Frank, who blinked up at him blearily.

"James? What—?"

"Shh." James pressed a finger to his lips. "Look, Frank, I need you to tell me what happened – quick. I don't have much time."

For a moment, Frank looked skeptical, but then, to James' relief, he nodded. "I don't remember much," he warned.

"That's okay. Just tell me what you can."

"Well, we went to see Professor Juniper in his office."

James' heart clenched. "_We_?"

Looking suddenly nervous, Frank nodded. "Alexander and I. We… we heard you talking about curses and someone named del Bene, and we thought Professor Juniper might be able to tell us more, since you guys weren't saying anything."

"What happened?"

"When we asked him about del Bene, he got really nervous and wouldn't answer us. Then…" Frank shook his head. "I just remember a flash of light, and then I woke up here."

"Juniper…" James muttered.

Frank was looking at him strangely. "What happened – what've they told you? Where… where's Alexander?"

"_James!_" Sirius hissed suddenly. The door was opening, and Madam Pomfrey walked in, Professor McGonagall at her side.

"But surely you must have found _something _by now, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey was saying as James cast around for somewhere to hide – but it was too late. McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, caught sight of James, and froze.

A second passed before she moved again, but when she did, she crossed the Hospital Wing in a few clipped steps and seized James by the ear.

"POTTER!" she roared, an angry red flush creeping up her neck. "_What_, in Merlin's name, are you _doing_?"

Muffled voices came from the corridor, and Professors Vector and Ruche appeared in the doorway, staring in confusion at James.

"When did he—?" Professor Vector began.

"_How_ did he…?" Professor Ruche said at the same time.

"Never mind that," McGonagall said stiffly, shifting her grip to James' elbow and wheeling him around. "Septima, kindly take Mr. Potter back to his common room?"

A strange shimmer in the corner of the room alerted James to his friends' whereabouts. From the looks of it, someone – probably Sirius – wanted to intervene.

"No!" James said forcefully, eyes on the corner. He quickly redirected his gaze to McGonagall who was now glaring at him. "Professor, _please!_ You've got to listen to me!"

"I don't think so, Potter. I told you to stay in Gryffindor Tower – for your own safety! Now, please, let us do our jobs!"

James struggled against McGonagall's grasp. "It was Professor Juniper!" he cried desperately. "Professor Juniper's the one who's been attacking people, and I know how he's been doing it!"

The room went very quiet. Frank sat up straighter in his bed, and Madam Pomfrey hastened to his side. In the corner, the invisibility cloak stirred again and was still. Professors Vector and Ruche stared at James for a long moment, their expressions unreadable, then turned to McGonagall, who remained supremely still as she stared down at James, her grip on his arm as vice-like as ever.

"I'm afraid you are wrong, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said in an odd, strangled sort of voice.

"But Professor—" James began, only to have McGonagall cut across him sharply.

"Professor Juniper is dead."


	22. The Treasure Found

**Chapter 22: The Treasure Found**

James was in shock.

Professor Juniper could not be dead; it didn't make sense. Juniper was the culprit. It had been he who had attacked all those people. Of course it had. Six attacks, and Juniper had turned up at four of them, at least. The cages in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the ice on the stairs, the window at midnight, and this most recent attack on Frank and Alexander.

_Alexander_…

James' heart drummed in his chest. Frank in the hospital wing, a professor dead, and Alexander Thorne missing.

If not Juniper, then who? Who could have killed a professor? Who had been there for the other attacks? James forced himself to think. Flitwick at two, Slughorn at one, McGonagall at one. And students. He remembered his and Sirius' early suspicions. Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black, Amycus and Alecto Carrow… Could any of them have killed Professor Juniper? James doubted it. But if they had surprised him…?

It _had_ to be Juniper, didn't it?

Head throbbing, James stared up at the concerned faces swimming over him.

Soft fingers brushed away his fringe, and a cool palm pressed against his forehead. Madam Pomfrey. "Perhaps we ought to keep him here, Minerva?"

"We'll be right outside." Professor Vector indicated herself and Professor Ruche. "He'll be nearly as safe here as in his common room, and we won't have to carry him up seven flights of stairs."

James watched the exchange as though from a great distance.

"Yes," McGonagall said slowly. "Yes, I suppose that's—"

A loud, nearby rumbling drowned out the last of McGonagall's words, and James had to clutch at Frank's bed to keep from falling as the ground shook under his feet. He saw a flash out of the corner of his eyes – his friends, staggering together under the invisibility cloak. James glanced around quickly, but the adults didn't seem to have noticed anything.

"What was that?" Professor Ruche demanded, dashing toward the door, his wand raised.

Professors McGonagall and Vector darted after him and, as Madam Pomfrey bent to check on Frank, James followed the professors into the corridor. In an instant, someone seized him round the middle, dragged him across the corridor into the shadow of a pillar, and threw the invisibility cloak over his head.

Peter, Sirius, and Remus blinked at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

"It came from the Entrance Hall," Professor Vector said quietly. She exchanged a dark look with McGonagall before nodding as though arriving at some decision. "Go. Both of you. I'll stay with Poppy and the children."

McGonagall and Ruche hurried off, James and his friends stumbling along behind them. By the time Professor Vector discovered James' absence, her shrill voice was muted by the stone walls, and the other professors didn't so much as slow.

It was difficult for the four first years to run under the invisibility cloak, but somehow they managed, although they fell steadily behind the professors. As such, McGonagall and Ruche reached the Entrance Hall with several seconds' head start, and their cries of dismay floated back. When James and the others stumbled into the Entrance Hall, their hearts plummeted at the sight of the sweeping marble staircase, now reduced to rubble.

McGonagall had her wand out and gave it a complicated wave, at which the stairs repaired themselves.

Next instant, they crumbled once more.

"Guys," Sirius hissed, knocking James' glasses askew as he pointed to the first floor corridor visible at the top of the demolished staircase. "Look!"

James straightened his glasses hastily and followed Sirius' gesture, letting out a small gasp at the red-faced figure with a shock of blond hair, who was crouched in the shadows. "Alex!"

"That way," Remus muttered, indicating the corridor that James knew led to a narrow spiral stair. They took off at once, tripping up the stairs as each struggled to keep the invisibility cloak draped over his head.

Halfway up, the stair under James' foot gave a jolt that nearly sent him tumbling backwards. He thought for an instant it was one of the stairs that liked to disappear, as so many did at Hogwarts. But he saw Sirius and Peter stumble on the step above his, and behind him, Remus had to clutch James' robes to stay upright.

They had time for one fleeting, petrified glance before Remus' step dropped out from under him; James barely managed to drag Remus onto his own step before another one fell away.

Someone shouted, "RUN!" but they needed no encouragement. James tore off the invisibility cloak, and hugged it to his chest as he pelted up the stairs, leaping the gaps that accumulated at an alarming rate. Sirius and Peter gained the safety of the first floor landing just as a large segment of stairs gave way all at once.

Remus skidded to a stop, staring wanly at the gaping black hole before him, but James dragged on his arm.

"JUMP!"

He did, coming down hard at the very edge of the landing, and Sirius had to seize the front of his robes to drag him forward. James was already running, clearing the gap and landing in a heap beside his friends, who scrambled away from the crumbling stairs.

The last steps fell away, and silence reigned once more, broken only by the gasping breath of the four boys.

At length, James staggered to his feet, ran a shaky hand through his hair, and glanced around. "Where's Alex?"

"He was over that way," Sirius said, pointing. He stood, then helped Remus up as James offered Peter a hand and gathered up the invisibility cloak from where he had dropped it. The four huddled together for a long moment, glancing from the empty stairwell to the silent corridor. A rumble in the distance made James' skin crawl.

"Was that another staircase?" Peter asked fretfully, but no one answered him.

Remus shifted closer to James, his pale face streaked with dust and sweat. "We should've just stayed put," he moaned.

"Alex is out there somewhere," James shot back. "We've got to find him."

Remus said nothing.

"_Then_ can we go back where it's safe?" Peter asked.

Sirius nodded, and James noticed that even he looked nervous. Then again, who wouldn't, after the narrow escape from the destruction of the stairs?

"C'mon," James said as firmly as he could manage. "The sooner we find him, the sooner we can get out of here."

They set out, stumbling along in such a tight pack that they might have still been huddled under the invisibility cloak currently stuffed inside James' robes. Every few minutes, another distant rumble echoed down the corridor, but they found no sign of Alexander… or of the one responsible for the attacks.

However, James did notice one thing as they crept down the corridor. Every staircase they passed, whether it led up to the second floor or down to the ground floor, had collapsed. He suspected he'd discovered the cause of the series of rumbles, which ceased after a quarter of an hour. James hoped it didn't mean what he thought it meant – that they were trapped on the first floor – and tried not to let his rising panic show.

A quick glance showed him that Peter was entirely focused on the corridor behind them, as though expecting the attacker to sneak up on them, which meant he probably hadn't noticed the lack of useable staircases. Sirius was as focused ahead as Peter was behind, his wand out as his gaze darted into classrooms and around corners, alert for any movement. If he had noticed the stairs, he gave no outward indication.

But as they passed the East Stair, as hollow and dark as all the rest, James caught Remus' eye. They turned quickly away, but James knew Remus was thinking the same thing he was.

How were they going to get out of this?

They'd nearly completed a circuit around the central wing before they found Alexander, who stood eerily still, staring at a blank stretch of wall, his wand held loosely at his side. His blond hair was disheveled, plastered to his forehead with sweat; grime streaked his skin. The air around them shimmered with dust and magic. A long, swollen silence passed before Alexander looked up. Mild surprise showed in his pudgy face.

"I wasn't expecting _you_."

No one spoke.

Alexander shrugged. "Well, so much the better. Professors do tend to be… troublesome."

"Alex?" James asked tentatively. The other boy ignored him and turned back to the wall. "Frank told us what happened. Where is he – do you know? The guy who attacked you? Who killed Professor Juniper?"

Alexander spoke without turning. "There's no one here but us."

"Yes there is," Sirius said hotly. "Haven't you heard all the noise? Someone's here! Someone dangerous."

"Then why did you come?"

"What do you mean, why?" James demanded. "We came to find you!"

"Did you?" Alexander laughed humorlessly. "How quaint."

Sirius scoffed. "We don't have time for this." He took a step forward. "Come on. We're going—"

"We aren't going anywhere." Alexander spoke lightly, but Sirius froze as surely as though Alexander had placed him under the Full Body-Bind Curse. "Not until I've finished."

James started to ask what he was talking about, but before he could get the words out, Alexander raised his wand. With a tremendous boom, the stone wall before them exploded, filling the corridor with a thick cloud of swirling dust that make James choke and cough as he stumbled back. He tripped over one of his friends and cried out, but through the ringing in his ears, he couldn't make out his own voice.

When the air cleared enough for James to see, half the wall had collapsed. A few shattered doors and torn paintings dotted the rubble, beyond which James spotted a small, dim chamber, nestled between two wrecked classrooms. The three walls still intact bore neither window nor door, and the square chamber was no more than two meters to a side; James had to wonder how Alexander had known it was there. A bulky, colorless cloth lay in the center of the space, now speckled with bits of stone, but if something was hidden underneath, James could not make out its shape.

"What the hell?" Sirius cried, lurching upright beside James.

Alexander smiled languidly at them, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Oh, did I scare you?" He chuckled, pale eyes gleaming. "My apologies."

"Why you—!"

"No – Sirius! _Don't_!" Remus gasped, grasping at Sirius' robes as he tried to lunge at Alexander.

Fighting against Remus' hold, Sirius glared at Alexander. "He almost killed us!"

James staggered to his feet, ignoring them. "That spell…" he said faintly. "_You_ destroyed the stairs?"

Alexander lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "I _had _hoped to forestall any interruptions, and yet…" He gave them all a disparaging smile.

"You mean you nearly killed us TWICE?" Sirius roared, lunging again for Alexander and actually dragging Remus forward a step or two. "You ba—!"

"SIRIUS!" Remus scrambled to his feet, straining with all his might to hold his friend back. "Stop!"

Behind them, Peter was also standing up, trembling as he did so. "Why are you doing this, Alexander?"

"That's not Alexander." Remus' soft voice sounded loud in James' ears, and he gaped at the scarred boy, as did Sirius and Peter. Alexander still wore his bland smile and regarded Remus with keen interest.

"What?" James asked.

Sirius glanced from Remus to Alexander and back. "What the hell are you talking about? Of _course_ that's him! Who else—?"

"We were right," Remus said miserably. "Don't you see – we were right! The vault, the inscription – all of it! It's all down to the same thing."

James felt the blood drain from his face. "You don't mean – del Bene?"

Remus nodded.

"Oh, you _are_ clever," said Alexander – or _was_ it Alexander? "Tell me, when did you piece it all together?"

"Just now," Remus said bitterly, finally releasing his hold on Sirius, who had stopped struggling to get at the plump blond across the corridor and instead stood gaping at Remus. "Although we've known bits of it for ages."

"Yes," the stranger chortled. "So I heard. I could hardly believe my ears, you know. And here I thought this school was full of half-wits."

Peter was looking on the verge of breaking down as he shuffled forward. "What have you figured out, Remus? What's going on?"

"Yes, Remus," the stranger parroted. "What's going on?"

"There _was_ something taken from that vault," Remus said. "Something with a terrible curse on it."

James was already shaking his head. "But you said a cursed object couldn't do all this! You said—"

"I know!" Remus snapped. He flinched at his own tone and dropped his voice. "I know. Ordinary cursed objects _can't_ do anything like what this one has."

_Ordinary cursed objects?_ James wondered, staring at Remus in confusion.

Sirius blanched. "What other kind is there?"

Remus closed his eyes, looking faintly sick. "I'm so stupid! I never even thought that – But why should I? It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't—"

With a strangled cry, Sirius seized Remus by the shoulders and shook him roughly. "Spit it out! What kind of bloody curse was on that thing?"

"Possession," Remus gasped, staggering with the force of Sirius' grasp. "That object wasn't meant to kill whoever touched it – It was meant to possess them. To let its maker possess them."

"Its – its _maker_?" Sirius breathed.

James turned toward the other, the stranger inhabiting Alexander's body, and said, numbly, "_You're_ del Bene."

The figure before them grinned darkly. James balked at the transformation it wrought on Alexander's smooth features. He no longer looked like a boy, but a very small, twisted creature, pale eyes glinting with malice. "I am."

Shaking his head, Peter shot his friends a desperate look. "That can't be true! You mean it's been him – all this time?"

"No way!" Sirius growled, clenching his wand in a white-knuckled grip as he glared at del Bene. "We would've known!"

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" del Bene said. "But the point is moot, as I have only recently acquired this body. A word to the wise – possession is a finicky business. So much rests on the receptiveness and, shall we say, _tenacity_ of the host.

"Take young Mr. Thorne, for instance." With a sweeping bow, del Bene tutted contemptuously. "Delightfully receptive host he is – paltry defenses, you know, and the poor boy hadn't the faintest what I was up to until it was far too late. And yet you'll find him a bit lacking in tenacity. Not at all conditioned to magic of my caliber, I'm afraid. There's no saying how much longer he'll hold up. Fortunately, I won't be needing him much longer."

He turned toward the chamber he had uncovered, and James was seized with a sudden panic. Though he didn't know what the chamber held, he knew that del Bene wanted it, and that meant it probably wasn't good news. James had to stall him – and pray the professors found them before it was too late.

"Alright," he said hastily before del Bene could step over the mountain of rubble. "But if you've only been possessing Alexander for a little while, who were you possessing before? Who'd you use to attack all those people?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" del Bene asked. When none of them answered, he laughed. "Perhaps you aren't so clever after all. Come now – think, children! There were only three people in that room, and I've already told you I only entered Mr. Thorne's body recently. Between the others, I'd put my wager on the one who wound up dead."

"Professor Juniper," James whispered.

del Bene clapped sardonically. "Oh, well done. Ten points to Gryffindor! Ah – I've forgotten. I no longer have that power. A shame. I wonder if they award points posthumously. I'll be sure to inquire for you."

Waving his hand dismissively, del Bene continued: "Yes, dear Jaspar unwittingly unleashed me on the school. I never imagined I would find such a… robust vessel, but he was a special case. Hardly a penny to his name, poor man – he had a hard time holding down a job, you know – and he knew better than to expect another year in this post."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Remus asked nervously.

"The curse," del Bene said. "Hasn't been a single Defense professor to last more than a year in ages. Jasper knew this, of course, but he was determined to make his fortune this year. I found all manner of treasures ferreted away in his office once I commandeered his body – gold flatware, old school awards, even a few busts he'd lifted from some dusty tower or another. Anything he thought might go unnoticed. And imagine his delight to find a pair of pranksters so kindly causing diversions at every turn, allowing him to slip off and pocket something else."

The bottom seemed to have dropped out of James' stomach. Was it true? Was that the reason Professor Juniper was so fond of James and Sirius, the reason he never turned them in after a prank? So that he could steal something while the other professors were busy dealing with the mess they had caused?

But del Bene wasn't done yet. Leering, he went on. "So of course, when a certain rumor reached his ears, of a particular vault and the treasure within, he just _had_ to find a way in. He was not a stupid man. It took time, but finally, he opened the door – on Christmas day, no less. A fine present."

"For you, maybe," Sirius spat, which only made del Bene's smile grow.

"Yes, of course. For me. A fine host he was. I was reluctant to give him up, but Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Thorne knew too much. I knew I had run out of time, and a child is so much less suspicious than a professor when you're hunting for a murderous madman." Laughing at the looks of fear the boys exchanged, del Bene smirked and turned back to the chamber.

Once more, James hastened to speak. "But why? I don't get it – why did you attack all those people?"

"Attack?" del Bene asked, turning once more. "That is what they're saying, isn't it? No, I'm afraid there's only been one _attack_ at Hogwarts this year."

"No there hasn't!" James protested.

Beside him, Sirius' face twisted into an ugly scowl. "What about all the people you've hurt – what do you call what happened to them?"

del Bene shrugged. "Unfortunate mishaps. Jasper was a sturdy host, but not a particularly cooperative one. I spent a good deal of time searching for an entrance to this chamber, and it seems my frustration weakened my control over the good professor. There were times that my spells misfired. Unfortunate, to say the least."

"I'll say!" Sirius growled. "You almost killed people with your 'mishaps!'"

"No, no. I assure you, I lost no sleep over my chance victims." del Bene chortled as Sirius made a move to attack – this time, both Remus and Peter had to hold him back. "It was unfortunate because it gave me little opportunity to conceal my involvement. _Professor Juniper_ turned up at far too many of those little incidents – yet another reason to discard him."

James was shaking with fury; he wanted nothing more than to attack the being before him. Only the thought that he might hurt Alexander more than del Bene – and the knowledge that del Bene would pulverize him in seconds – stayed his wand.

"Accidents, huh?" he said instead. "_Really_? All five of them?"

del Bene rolled his eyes. "Pay attention! I've already told you the last one was an attack – and I'm about to bring that count up to two if you don't—"

"I _know_ the last one was an attack!" James shouted. "I'm talking about the other five! They can't _all_ have been accidents!"

For a long moment, del Bene studied James in silence, brow furrowed. His gaze crept sideways to Sirius – to Peter – to Remus. Then, suddenly, he laughed. "Oh, yes, of course! You _wouldn't_ know, would you?"

"Kn-know what?" Peter asked as James and Sirius glared at del Bene. Behind them, Remus swayed on the spot.

"The school believes there were six attacks this year, yes?"

James nodded slowly.

"Yes…. Well, be that as it may, I can only claim credit for five." There was a long stretch of silence, during which del Bene looked on in glee. Evidently realizing that none of them were going to speak, del Bene broke the silence. "I'm afraid you have more than one menace here. I was quite shocked myself when I found out. I never would have imagined I'd find such a thing at a school." He paused, twisting Alexander's features into a look of false concern.

Peter whimpered.

"What kind of thing?" James asked.

That chilling gaze swept once more over the four boys. "I'll let you figure that out for yourselves. Clever boys like you – I'm sure it's only a matter of time. Though I'm not sure how much of that you have left. Ah, well," he said cheerily, turning purposefully back toward the chamber. "I wouldn't dream of telling. It would ruin the surprise. Besides, you'll need _something_ to keep your charming school interesting when I've gone on to haunt the world at large. A… successor, I suppose you could say. _My_ successor."

Remus gave an odd sort of cry that made del Bene roar with laughter, but he stopped as he reached the heavy cloth heaped on the floor of the hidden chamber. Crouching down, he laid a hand on the cloth and released a deep sigh.

"At last…. The time has come."

With a flourish that raised a cloud of dust and dirt, del Bene flung the cloth aside to reveal what lurked beneath.


	23. The Man in the Portrait

**Chapter 23: The Man in the Portrait**

A painting lay on floor where the heavy, dusty cloth had been. The gilt frame looked ancient – warped and flaking, with a gaping hole on the bottom, where some decoration had fallen off – but otherwise, it might have been painted yesterday. The oils glinted in the half-light, and as del Bene stood it up against the wall, James saw what was depicted on the canvas.

It was a portrait. A precarious stack of books and a pale, cracked human skull sat before a stormy gray backdrop gleaming with what James strongly suspected were bloodstains. A skeletal man in violet robes leaned against the edge of the frame, sallow face a mask of boredom, but something burned in his pale eyes, belying a keen interest in the five small figures gathered before his frame.

"C-Cobin?" Sirius stammered.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked.

The portrait smiled thinly. "So full of questions. As if two hundred years weren't a long enough wait."

James frowned. "Two hundred…"

"_No_." This came from Remus, who stared at the portrait with a look of abject horror, and raised a trembling finger to point at it. "You…!"

"Me." Cobin gave a shallow bow, though his eyes never left the four boys cowering in the corridor. "Frederick Cobin del Bene, at your service."

James' knees nearly gave out; he swayed, but managed to stay upright. "No. No, that's not possible."

"There's _two_ of you?" Sirius cried. Eyes bulging, he raised his wand. "_Incendio!_"

The del Bene in Alexander's body waved his wand almost lazily, and the jet of fire spewing from Sirius' wand parted around him. The inferno rolled over the portrait; the cloth that had covered it caught fire and began to spew smoke. A moment later, it was over. The remains of the cloth smoldered in the corner, but the portrait remained, unmarred.

Cobin laughed from the frame. "Fool boy. This painting is my link to immortality! Do you think I would leave it unprotected?"

"_Aguamenti!_" James roared, raising his own wand.

"Go on!" del Bene roared through Alexander's mouth. "Keep trying!"

"Your piteous attempts at magic cannot _possibly_ touch me." Cobin spread his arms wide. "I have cheated death for two hundred years!"

del Bene twirled his wand and smirked. "But if you children think you can succeed where better wizards have failed…"

James didn't wait for him to finish. "_Expelliarmus!"_

del Bene danced aside with more grace than James had expected – more grace, certainly, than Alexander had ever shown. A flash of orange light issued from Alexander's wand, caught James in the gut and lifted him off his feet. He distantly heard Remus shout, "_Spongify!_" saw a flash of pink, and hit the wall—

Rather than a bone-jarring collision with solid stone, James might have hit a mattress. He rebounded and sprawled face down on the ground, his wand rolling away from him. Before he could gather his wits, Remus crouched beside him, worry etched on his face.

"I'm fine," James grunted, staggering to his feet. He snatched up his wand and faced Cobin and del Bene once more.

"Wonderful," del Bene said, his stolen face creasing into a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"—I have a prison to escape," Cobin finished.

With that, del Bene withdrew an orb from his pocket. Roughly the size of a fist, stormy gray with a flickering white light at its core, it looked like an enormous glass star that pulsed in time with James' pounding heart. James knew at once that this was the object that had sat on the pedestal behind the door without a handle, the object that had allowed del Bene to possess Professor Juniper, and now Alexander.

In the time it took del Bene to crouch beside the portrait, James realized that the glass orb was also a perfect fit for the hole at the bottom of the worn gilt frame.

James started forward, raising his wand and shouting the first spell that came to mind – "_Tarantallegra!_"

del Bene couldn't move fast enough to avoid the spell, and his legs jerked out from under him, sending him toppling away from Cobin's frame. He clutched the glass orb to his chest, shielding it with his body. In no time at all, he had undone James' jinx.

But the distraction gave James enough time to warn his friends. "Don't let him near that portrait!"

They sprang into action at once, filling the air with crackling bursts of light. Like James, Sirius began to fire off every spell he could think of in quick succession, hounding del Bene with jets of water, tongues of flame, and streaks of light carrying boils and flying bogeys and Merlin knew what else. Peter stood between them, shouting, _"Expelliarmus!_" over and over.

del Bene blocked every last spell they sent at him, and though the sheer furor of the attack drove him steadily away from the portrait, nothing worse than irritation showed on his face. He erected an invisible shield that deflected their spells, which burned themselves out on the ceiling and walls, whizzed past their ears, and broke off small chips of stone that pelted the first years. One reflected spell caught Peter in the chest and he fell, wand spinning out of his hand.

"No! What are you doing – stop it! Stop him! _Stop him!_"

James whirled around toward Cobin's voice and saw Remus, frozen in the middle of levitating the portrait toward himself, eyes as wide as saucers as del Bene roared in fury. James turned back to distract del Bene, but with a single spell, James was sent reeling, staggering against the wall, his head spinning.

He watched helplessly as Remus snatched the portrait out of the air and sprinted away down the corridor, using the frame as a shield to ward off the curses that del Bene sent chasing after him. Lights burned red, green, and violet across James' vision as he stumbled after them.

A spell cut deep into the floor, leaving an inch-wide gouge in its wake, and caught Remus' legs, tripping him up. He tumbled, wand clattering away in one direction, Cobin's portrait in another. A blast of white light flung Remus farther down the corridor, where he rolled over, convulsed once, and was still.

And then del Bene once more had the portrait in his grasp, set it upright against the wall. Cobin, looking disheveled, his robes askew and the books now scattered about, was shouting – "Hurry up! Do it! Do it now!"

Sirius was still casting spells, his voice high and hoarse.

But James had forgotten his wand; he tackled del Bene at a dead sprint and they became entangled. James knocked del Bene's arm aside, and the other's wand spun away, though an open classroom door. Frantic, James seized del Bene's other arm to get at the glass orb – but the orb wasn't there.

Only then did James realize that del Bene wasn't fighting back. He – or rather, Alexander – lay limp in James' grasp, his eyes closed, his face pale.

"James – look out!"

James whirled. Inside the chipped and peeling frame, Cobin was laughing, one hand outstretched as though to grasp at something only he could see. As James watched, horrorstruck, the canvas rippled and bulged where Cobin's hand flexed. It was as though the painting had become a murky, viscous puddle; fat, wet globs of paint dripped onto the frame and the floor, little dark splatters the color of dried blood.

Cobin's distorted image took a step forward. The bulge swelled, stretching the canvas to its limits, until tiny popping sounds could be heard from the careworn frame. With a terrible ripping sound, the canvas split, and Cobin's long, bony, gnarled fingers appeared, solid and real, clutching at the edges of the rent canvas and widening the hole.

Distantly, James heard Sirius stammering out spells, but his voice was weak, his magic equally feeble.

Frederick Cobin del Bene, dark wizard, murderer, sealed nearly two hundred years ago by a Hogwarts Headmaster – now only moments and canvas stood between this dangerous man and a full revival. If James didn't do something soon, del Bene would return to power, and no one would be safe.

And so James did something – something foolish, something insane, but the only thing he could think to do. He flung himself toward Cobin's portrait, wrapped his fingers around the pulsing glass orb, and pulled with all his might.

It came free with a faint _pop_. James cradled it to his chest, staring… mesmerized…. It was so warm – so peaceful. He felt as if he could go to sleep… could sleep and never wake up.

Someone called his name… Sirius… He remembered… He remembered… What did he remember? Something nagged at the back of his mind, something pressing, something that made his heart flutter in his chest. Something was wrong. He had to… had to…

The light in his hands flared, warm and drowsing, driving away the nagging thoughts. Sleep… He just wanted to sleep…

"James! James – no!"

_Go away_, James wanted to say. _Leave me be_.

The light was so big, so bright; James didn't know how such a thing could be contained in glass, could be held in his hands.

"James! You've got to fight him, James! _James_! Don't let him possess you!"

_Possess me…?_

The light flared again, but James fought it, trying to remember… remember…

Frederick Cobin del Bene. The name thudded through James' head. Cobin – the portrait – the strange, pallid man who first told them about the treasure. del Bene – the dark wizard – the one who had attacked so many people, who _would_ attack so many more, if James didn't…

James swooned as the warmth redoubled, but it wasn't comfortable any more. It burned, burned like he held an inferno in his hands, and he wanted to let go – but his fingers _wouldn't_ let go.

"James!"

Sirius sounded scared. James had never heard him sound so scared. Gray eyes swam at the edge of his vision. _Sirius_…

Sirius would die.

James thought of his friends, holding their images in his mind's eye, focusing on them with all his might. If del Bene rose now, Sirius would be the first to die, and Peter and Remus would follow soon after.

They would all die. del Bene would kill them, just as he had killed Professor Juniper.

"_Fight, James!_"

Fight…

The fire in his hands was white-hot now – too hot – but James fought.

_Get it away… Throw it away… Far away – so far it can't hurt me._

He tried – he strained with every last drop of strength to fling it away, but his body wouldn't listen to him. It was like being encased in stone, trapped, unable to move.

A creeping dread grew within him, ice cold fingers reaching for his heart, squeezing. He couldn't do it. He couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't…

"C'mon, James! _Fight!_ You can do it!"

The ice within… The fire without… James felt at any moment the pain would consume him. Wouldn't it be so much easier to give in to the darkness? To let go?

But still Sirius went on shouting, and James clung to his words. You can do it. _I can do it_.

"JAMES!"

_Get it away from me!_

With a monumental effort, James broke free. Pain blossomed in his hand – sharp, stabbing pain. Thousands of tiny daggers, ripping him to pieces. He screamed.

"James!"

James opened his eyes. He lay on his side on the ground a few feet from Cobin's portrait, Sirius kneeling beside him. Whether Sirius had dragged him away from the portrait, or whether James himself had somehow gotten there, he couldn't be sure. His head was throbbing, even worse than his hand, but at least the fire and ice were gone.

Sirius reached for James' agonized hand, and James had to bite down to keep from shouting aloud.

"_Merlin_, James…."

Fighting down a wave of nausea, James lifted his head to look at the bloody, shredded mess that was his hand. Bits of glass protruded from his flesh – that, and the shimmering dust on the floor, was all that remained of the orb. He must have smashed it against the floor, somehow. Moaning with pain, he averted his eyes… and saw Cobin's portrait.

Well, what was left of it. The canvas was still torn where Cobin had begun to emerge, but all that James could see behind it was the dark backing of the frame. The paints had run together into an indistinct, muddy blur.

"Cobin…?" James choked out, finding his throat dry and sore as though he'd been screaming.

"He's gone," Sirius assured him, squeezing his shoulder. "It's over."

James managed a nod, and then the darkness claimed him.

-.-.-

"…absolute miracle none of them were killed!"

"Yes, it is, Poppy. However, I'm afraid that doesn't change the fact that there are things I must discuss with them."

"But Headmaster—"

"I'll be brief – you have my word. One conversation, and then I'll be out of your hair."

"Oh… very well."

James heard footsteps and the sound of a door latching. Opening his eyes, he found himself in the Hospital Wing, staring up at a scrubbed white ceiling flushed with golden afternoon sunlight.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! How delightful of you to join us."

"What?"

"James!"

"You're awake!"

James sat up to look around the room. Six faces stared back at him – Frank and Sirius beaming from ear to ear, Peter offering a shaky smile, Remus looking pale but relieved. Alexander, who looked gray and sickly, merely nodded. And last, standing near the great wooden doors with a twinkle in his eyes, was the tall, silver-haired Professor Dumbledore.

James gulped and avoided Dumbledore's eyes. "H-hello, Professor."

"No need to look so anxious, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said kindly. "If Madam Pomfrey were to see you squirming like that, she'd have my head!" He laughed, and something about the sound made James relax, if only a little.

He had expected Dumbledore to be disappointed in them for disregarding the professors' directions and charging into danger. Part of him even suspected that Dumbledore only wanted to talk to them to tell them what punishment they could expect. After all, a personal visit from the Headmaster couldn't be a good thing.

But Dumbledore didn't seem angry with them at all. His eyes went on twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, and he gave the six boys a reassuring smile before he conjured a chintz armchair and sat down.

"How are you all feeling?"

There was a murmur of vaguely positive responses.

"Good, good." Dumbledore paused, sighed heavily. "Let me apologize in advance. You all have found yourselves at the center of very dark business, and I'm sure you are eager to put it behind you. But first, I need you to tell me what, precisely, happened."

After a long silence, they began to tell their story. James and Sirius explained briefly how Cobin had enticed them into searching the castle for long-lost treasure, how they had found the door in the dungeons but, unable to open it, had all but forgotten it by the time Christmas holidays rolled around. Together with Peter and Remus, they recounted their suspicions and the research that had led them to suspect that del Bene had left a cursed object behind, and that it had been taken from the vault.

At this point, Frank took over, speaking for Alexander, who had not looked up from his lap for the duration of the conversation. They had overheard James and the others talking at lunch one day, Frank explained, and the things they heard had worried them. Once it became clear that the four boys had no intention to share whatever it was they had learned, Frank and Alexander had decided to go to Professor Juniper, hoping that he might know more about a dark wizard named del Bene.

After this, it fell to James to tell the last of the story, with occasional input from Sirius. James skimmed over the use of the invisibility cloak, seeing no reason to let it be confiscated. If Dumbledore thought it odd that four first years could so easily avoid the attention of the professors, he didn't let on, and allowed James to continue with his story.

When James had finished, Dumbledore sat in silence for a long moment.

"I thank you," he said at last. "You've been through a great ordeal, and I will soon leave you to rest. However, I am sure you must have questions for me."

James did have questions, so many that it took him a moment to decide which to ask first. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "I thought del Bene died a long time ago. All the books say that Elfindork Endowynn defeated him in a duel, and then he was given the Dementor's Kiss. So…"

"How could he still be around today?" Dumbledore supplied. James nodded. "The answer is a complicated and powerful bit of magic. I've never seen anything quite like it. How much do you know about wizards' portraits?"

"What?" James asked, surprised. "Not much, sir."

With a chuckle, Dumbledore shook his head. "I thought not. Few do. It is an old skill, now known only among artists. There is a spell that combines the visual representation of a witch or wizard with a bit of their personality to create a semblance of life— A _semblance_ of life," he repeated. "Nothing more. Nothing is taken from the subject of the portrait, and what we have is a kind of ongoing memory.

"What del Bene did," Dumbledore went on, his face now grave, "seems to have been drawn from this practice. However, he put more than his personality into that portrait."

"What, then?" Sirius asked, leaning forward. "His soul?"

"No." Dumbledore frowned, his eyes growing distant for a moment. "No, not his soul. His mind, perhaps, or a portion of it. He had great plans, del Bene; he would have wanted to see them carried out in all their – according to him, you understand – in all their brilliance. From what little I know about him, I doubt very much that he would trust anyone to be as intelligent as himself.

"The key to his plan was the cursed orb that, until a few months ago, was sealed away in the depths of this school. It served as his link to the physical world. In the hands of the innocent and unawares, it enabled him to possess others."

Here, James glanced to Alexander, who was staring at Dumbledore with a pained expression. James himself remembered the confusion and pain he had felt when he'd held the cursed orb, and an involuntary shudder shook his body.

"Professor Juniper was by no means the first victim of that curse." Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't noticed, but his eyes lighted on James for the briefest of moments. "If the old rumors can be believed, the orb floated around Hogwarts for several years before Headmaster Endowynn was able to secure it in the vault.

"Aside from possession, the orb had another power. When placed in del Bene's frame, it allowed him to leave his self-arranged prison – in what capacity, I can only guess. Whether del Bene would have been a shade of his former self, a mere spirit, or whether he would truly have returned to his full power…" A beat of somber silence filled the Hospital Wing before Dumbledore continued. "Fortunately, we will never know. In destroying the orb, James, you broke all of the enchantments del Bene had placed upon it, including the one that tied his consciousness to that painting. He is now well and truly dead."

No one spoke as the six students absorbed Dumbledore's explanation. James shook his head, dumbfounded, thinking vaguely that they had gotten very lucky indeed. He was trying to work up the courage to ask Dumbledore how he, James, had managed to resist del Bene long enough to destroy the orb, when Alexander and Juniper had not.

But Sirius spoke first: "del Bene said something…. He said he wasn't responsible for one of the attacks, that there's something else loose in the school."

There was a collective intake of breath, and everyone but Dumbledore paled. Remus looked worst of all, almost as bad as he had looked after he was attacked, when James, Sirius, and Peter had found him in the Hospital Wing less than two weeks ago.

But Dumbledore merely gave them all a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about that. You are all perfectly safe."

"But, Professor!" Sirius protested. "del Bene said it attacked someone! He said… He called it his successor!"

Dumbledore's expression darkened momentarily, but he quickly shook his head and resumed his smiling. "He was lying."

Peter didn't look convinced. "B-but what if there _is_ something here?"

"There _is_!" Sirius said heatedly.

"Do you know what it is, Professor?" Frank asked.

For a long while, it didn't look like Dumbledore was going to answer. Then he sighed. "I am well aware of the… situation to which he was referring. But, again, I assure you that you are perfectly safe. del Bene merely wanted to scare you."

James shook his head stubbornly. "But if it attacked someone—!"

"There is nothing to worry about." Dumbledore spoke mildly, but his eyes had lost their twinkle, and James swallowed the rest of his objection. "I am well aware that telling this group, in particular, to leave well enough alone is begging for trouble, but I ask you all the same. Forget what del Bene told you. The professors and I have everything under control. Do not try to uncover this secret for yourselves."

Something in Dumbledore's face told James that the conversation was over, and so – though a swarm of questions still buzzed inside his head – he remained silent, as did the other boys. A moment later, Dumbledore stood, vanished the chair, and left the Hospital Wing.


	24. The End of Term

**Chapter 24: The End of Term**

After Professor Dumbledore disappeared, Madam Pomfrey came bustling back in to tend to her patients. She muttered to herself about peace and quiet and wouldn't let any of them talk, but James and Sirius started making faces at the others whenever Madam Pomfrey wasn't looking. They soon had Frank and Peter snickering, earning both boys suspicious glares from the nurse. Even Alexander and Remus managed tight smiles, though they still looked sick to their stomachs.

As James had feared, Professor McGonagall arrived later in the day to assign their punishments, but she seemed slightly less stern than usual, perhaps out of relief that they had all survived. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were docked fifty points apiece for "deliberately and repeatedly" disregarding McGonagall and the other professors and "recklessly endangering your own lives," but each of the four were also awarded fifty points for helping save Alexander and rid the school of del Bene once and for all. And in light of the looming exams, McGonagall informed them, they would only be required to serve one detention.

They were released one by one as the day wore on and Madam Pomfrey, reluctantly, admitted they were well enough to walk. She had wanted to keep them all overnight, but Remus managed to convince her that with exams coming up, they wouldn't be overexerting themselves, and that she had to let them go study.

James, of course, had no intention of studying for a good few days, but he played along to get Madam Pomfrey to let him go.

Sirius, who had suffered nothing more than a few bruises, was allowed to go almost immediately, but he waited around until Peter and Remus were cleared near the end of the lunch hour. Even then, Sirius looked like he wanted to linger, but James told him to go before Madam Pomfrey threw him bodily from the room.

Dinner had ended before the other three were released, and though food had been provided in the Hospital Wing, it had been a small, bland meal, and James' stomach rumbled as he stretched and walked out into the corridor.

He turned to Frank and Alexander. "What do you say we take a little detour before we head up?"

They eyed him suspiciously, but James just laughed and headed toward the kitchen. Ten minutes later, pockets stuffed with fresh bread, cakes, and other snacks, carrying two pitchers of pumpkin juice and six sets of dishes, they started up toward Gryffindor Tower. Alexander was smiling for the first time that day, and by the time they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, James was fully engrossed in telling the other boys all the (slightly exaggerated) details of his various nighttime wanderings throughout the year.

The handful of students in the common room immediately descended on James, Frank, and Alexander, but they dodged their questions and sprinted up to their dormitory. Peter sat on his bed, watching as Sirius poked and prodded Remus, who was steadfastly ignoring him in favor of his Potions notes.

Catching sight of James, Sirius sprang up from Remus' bed – James didn't miss the sigh of relief that escaped the scarred boy – and whooped at the sight of the food that the three newcomers proceeded to unload onto the nearest trunk.

"You just ate, Sirius," Remus grumbled, rubbing his forehead as he set his notes on his nightstand.

Sirius grinned. "Hey! Gonna join the party, Remus?"

"It's that or pretend to study while you lot give me a headache." He scowled as he spoke, but as he crawled to the foot of his bed and took the goblet of pumpkin juice Frank handed him, a smile tugged at his lips.

They passed around food and juice and settled down on beds, trunks, and the floor, laughing and talking about whatever nonsense came to mind. By some silent agreement, they avoided mentioning the events of that day, giving themselves over instead to the trivial chitchat and snarky banter of ordinary first year boys.

-.-.-

With their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor dead, no one quite knew what to expect in the coming days. They were informed at breakfast on Monday that they would have Defense that morning as scheduled, led by Professor McGonagall, as the fifth years she normally taught at that time were in the middle of their first OWL, the written Charms exam. She took the opportunity to inform James and his friends that they would serve their detention that evening at eight, helping Filch clean up the first floor corridor that had been destroyed in their battle with del Bene.

On Wednesday, it was Professor Kettleburn of the Care of Magical Creatures department who took over their Defense class for a last hour of review. Before James knew it, it was the weekend of exams, and he found himself buried in revision. The hours ticked by in silence, and though he and Sirius slipped away to the kitchens or the beech tree by the lake on more than one occasion, these breaks never lasted quite long enough before Remus found them and made them study yet again.

And then exams were upon them. On the whole, James found, they were as easy as he expected – easier, in fact, due to the absurd amount of revision Remus had forced on him. He knew his initial evaluation had been spot on; he could have scraped a pass in all his classes with far less effort, and as it was, he was quite sure he would be getting excellent marks this year.

Professor Sprout had them repotting wolfsbane and harvesting an early crop of Abyssinian shrivelfigs for their Herbology exam on Monday, and then they sat Professor Binn's written exam in History of Magic.

Tuesday brought Defense – another written exam, and by far the easiest of the lot – and Transfigurations, in which McGonagall had them turn rats into dinner plates. (James wasn't sure whether he had won or lost points when he had turned McGonagall's quill and grade sheet into a matching knife and fork.) They had to fill out a star chart in astronomy that night, but they were able to sleep in the next day, as they didn't have a morning exam.

In Charms, they had to soften a brick enough so that an egg dropped on it from a meter high wouldn't crack. James couldn't help but think that this was a rather mundane use for the softening charm, which hardly a week before had saved his _head_ from cracking open like an egg.

Finally it was Thursday, the day of their last exam: Potions. After an hour of fighting with ground snake fangs and dried watercress, James turned in something that resembled a headache cure and sprinted out to the beech tree with Sirius, Peter, and Remus.

"I could _use_ a headache cure right about now," Sirius yawned, stretching out in the sun.

"Not the way _you_ made it," James teased. "Unless you want to finish out the term with a stay in the Hospital Wing for poisoning yourself."

"Like yours was any better!"

They wrestled for a few minutes, but James broke away when he saw that Remus had pulled out a book and begun to read.

"We _just_ finished with exams, Remus!"

Remus raised his eyes to stare at James over the top of his book, blinked once, and started reading again.

Now that the pressure of exams was over, the student body turned to the gossip that had been strangely absent for the past two weeks. Stories of del Bene and dozens of hitherto unheard-of attacks swirled about, and without any word from the teachers or James and his dormmates, they grew to ridiculous proportions.

The first year boys tried to ignore the flying rumors, but when James overheard a third year telling her friends that it had all been the work of leprechauns, he could no longer hold his tongue.

"They don't know anything!"

As usual, the four friends were gathered under their tree, watching a group of boys roughhousing in the water.

Remus sighed and set down his book – the fourth in as many days. "They weren't there, James."

"No one was there," Sirius agreed. "Not even the professors!"

"Yeah, where were they, anyway?" James crossed his arms, scowling.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you hear? They were trying to get up the stairs, but del Bene had put all kinds of spells on the rubble – I heard McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey talking about it after we got to the Hospital Wing. 'Enough magic to bring down a dragon,' McGonagall said. They were still working on undoing it when you smashed that ruddy crystal ball and broke all the enchantments on the stairways."

"You mean they couldn't get through?" Peter asked, awestruck.

Sirius shook his head. "There was even some hex that made the brooms go crazy when they tried to fly up."

James whistled, and they fell into silence.

"Something's still bugging me," Sirius said suddenly, several minutes later.

"Yeah?" James glanced at him. "What's that?"

"The extra attack. I mean, which one was it?"

Peter made a small noise. "What does it matter?"

For a minute, Sirius fidgeted and said nothing. Then he took a deep breath and forged ahead. "What if Malfoy attacked Andy, after all? What if he brought something dangerous into the school and used it to hurt her?"

"Oh, not _this_ again," James groaned. "For all we know, the extra attack might have been the ice on the stair. del Bene's so-called 'successor' might be after _us_."

Peter paled at this, and Remus' grip on his book had tightened so that James thought he was liable to start tearing pages out.

Sirius frowned. "That's just it – we don't know anything about it. We don't know who's still in danger."

"Professor Dumbledore said no one was in danger," Peter pointed out in a small voice.

"We don't know that," Sirius argued. "We don't even know if it's a person del Bene was talking about! It could be another cursed object – or some kind of monster!"

Remus made a sudden, convulsive gesture and shoved his book back into his bag. James frowned at him.

"Something wrong, Remus?"

"You shouldn't be talking about this," he mumbled, not looking at them.

"Oh, come on, Remus," Sirius said. "We're just—"

"Professor Dumbledore _told_ you not to talk about it!" Remus snapped, rising swiftly and storming away.

After a moment of stunned silence, the other three hurried after him. He'd disappeared too quickly, though, and they didn't find him until they returned to their dormitory half an hour later. All the drawers in Remus' desk were open and empty, and he knelt on the floor, piling things into his trunk.

"What are you doing?" James asked, stopping in the doorway with Sirius and Peter behind him.

Remus tucked his Astronomy book between a pile of socks and his winter cloak. "I'm going home tomorrow."

"_What_?" Sirius cried. "Why?"

"It's only Monday!" Peter added.

"We haven't even got our exam results yet," James added teasingly, but his smile slipped as Remus' motions stilled. "What is it?"

"It's…" Remus hesitated, turned his back on his friends. "It's my mum. She's… sick. Again."

"Oh." James could have punched himself. _Way to make fun of the guy with the sick mum_. "Sorry," he added lamely.

Remus shrugged. "'s not your fault."

"Well, you've got the rest of today to get through, right?" Sirius asked. "How about we go flying to pass the time? You've gotten loads better since September."

"I don't really feel like flying," Remus muttered.

"How about swimming?"

Remus shook his head.

"How about," James said, bending down to pick up the last of Remus' schoolbooks, "I go down to the kitchens and get us some food, and we'll spend the afternoon in here? We'll play gobstones or something, and you can read another book or two. Sound good?"

With a small smile, Remus took his schoolbooks from James and crammed them into his trunk, which was so full of old, ragged books that James figured it must weigh as much as a hippogriff. "Sounds good."

-.-.-

Remus left the following morning with only his dormmates to see him off, and once he had gone, the other boys trudged back to the common room. They spent the rest of the week playing gobstones, exploding snap, and once even a pick-up game of Quidditch with an odd assortment of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Only a few Gryffindors were still sore about losing out to Ravenclaw in the final match.

But Remus' absence hovered over James, Sirius, and Peter like a shadow, dampening their spirits. Exam results came out on Friday, and as he walked into his dormitory after breakfast, James glanced at his scroll long enough to note that he had, indeed, passed everything, before he lobbed it into his half-packed trunk.

They had the end-of-term feast that evening, but James kept thinking how much Remus would have enjoyed the food and festivities. Ravenclaw had won the House Cup in addition to the Quidditch Cup, so the Great Hall was decked out in blue and bronze, and the Gryffindor prefect Eliot Donovan looked almost as sullen as the Slytherins, who trailed Ravenclaw by less than ten points. Gryffindor, due largely to the combined efforts of James, Sirius, and the Prewett twins, had come in dead last.

Saturday morning passed in a flurry of last-minute packing and a hurried breakfast of bacon and eggs, but all too soon, they were climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express, headed back to King's Cross Station. The trip passed quietly, although James had to sit in front of the compartment door to keep Sirius from pulling a last-minute prank on Malfoy and Narcissa. (Normally, James would be all for it, but, as he reminded Sirius, he doubted it would make for a good start to the summer holidays when Sirius' parents found out.)

And then they had arrived. The Hogwarts Express stopped in a hiss of steam, and students crowded toward the doors, calling out to family members waiting on the platform.

James, Sirius, and Peter hung back, letting the rest of the students push and shove their way out while the three friends dawdled in their compartment.

"Keep an eye on your parchment," Sirius told James, twitching aside the curtain to peer at the platform outside. "I'll write whenever I can."

"What about me?" Peter asked.

"I think my parents'll let your letters through. But if I don't answer in a day or two, write James and he'll pass it on."

James nodded. "I'll let Remus know, too."

With a heavy sigh, Sirius glanced at the thinning crowd of students passing by their compartment. "I guess we should go. This is gonna be a long summer."

They joined the stream, dragging their trunks down the long, thin corridor toward the exit. They could hear the roar of conversation already, but James ignored it and clapped Sirius on the shoulder.

"It's only two months," James reminded him with a grim smile. "I know your parents aren't likely to let you come to my house—"

"No, not likely at all," Sirius muttered.

"—but would they let you go to Peter's?"

Sirius perked up. "You know… they just might! You think your parents would be up for that, Pete?"

"I'll ask them first thing," Peter assured him.

James beamed. "See? It won't be so terrible."

They had reached the door, and James caught sight of his parents at once, standing just a few feet away and waving at him. Peter waved to someone off to the right.

"Don't forget to ask!" James called as Peter hurried away.

Peter turned, beaming. "I won't. Bye!"

"There they are," Sirius said in a low voice, staring toward a dim corner of the platform. "Better not keep them waiting."

"Better not," James agreed. "See you soon!"

"I sure hope so."

Sirius melted away into the crowd, and James turned toward his parents, who hurried forward to greet him with a hug.

"How was your year?" Mrs. Potter asked.

Mr. Potter gave his son a conspiratorial smile. "Have fun? Anything exciting happen?"

James laughed. "You have no idea."

**The End**

* * *

**A/N: Well, that's it! Year One is over! Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, and added me to their favorites/alerts!  
**

**If you haven't been reading my companion stories - _Moony's, Padfoot's, Wormtail's, _and _Lily's Stories -_ now would be the perfect time to start, because they're going to have a lot more content as Year Two goes up. Also be sure to read the Interludes, which are set between years. You can read the interludes in any order, but the chronological order is as follows:  
**

**1. _Padfoot's Story_  
_2. __Wormtail's Story_  
3. _Moony's Story_  
**

**As always, keep an eye on my profile for information on upcoming and current projects.  
**


	25. Year Two

**A/N: Just wanted to let you all know that I've uploaded the sequel to this story, so click on my name up at the top of the page and find **_**James Potter and the Shrieking Shack**_**!**

**For those who are interested (and so this chapter isn't strictly an Author's Note), here's the teaser I posted for Year Two back when I had just finished this story:**

* * *

"So you're not a Chaser," James said bracingly as they touched down. "And you should probably steer clear of Seeker, too."

"And Keeper," Sirius added with a sigh. "I'm rubbish at Quidditch."

"No you aren't," Peter said earnestly, but Sirius just snorted.

James rolled his eyes. "You can't give up until you've tried Beater! C'mon – one more game. You can be on my team!"

"Cause that way, even if I make as terrible a Beater as I do a Chaser, we won't be completely walloped?"

Laughing, James clapped him on the back. "Now you've got it!"

-.-.-

Mr. Pettigrew's voice drifted up the stairs and through the open door. "I've got no choice, Enid. Everyone's on edge tonight."

"This hasn't got anything to do with You-Know-Who, has it?" Mrs. Pettigrew demanded sharply. "It's the Aurors' responsibility to deal with him, not yours."

James strained his ears to hear Mr. Pettigrew's response, but the man had dropped his voice low, and James couldn't make out the words through the sloshing of the rain outside...

"Have you heard something, Phillip?" Mrs. Pettigrew asked. "Is there going to be another attack tonight?"

Mr. Pettigrew sighed. "I wish I knew."

-.-.-

The boy was short and wiry, with a pointed face, gray eyes, and sleek black hair. He carried himself like a pureblood brat, wearing the same self-important expression as the man and woman fawning over him. All three bore a striking resemblance to Sirius, and suddenly James knew who he was looking at.

"That your family, mate?"

Sirius snorted in disgust. "They got him an owl."

"What?" James' eyes found the luggage cart beside the Blacks and, sure enough, a petite, jet black owl was napping in a cage atop the trunk.

"Told me if I wanted a pet, I had to buy it myself, and then look what happens when _Reg_ asks."

-.-.-

In the years to come, James would swear up and down that he had put all his homework off until the last minute, that he had never once completed an assignment more than twelve hours before it was due. And he certainly would never let Remus Lupin coerce him into staying on top of his school work. He was James Potter, prankster extraordinaire, not some boring old bookworm!

-.-.-

_Mr. J. A. Potter—_

_It is with greatest pleasure that I request your company on  
Friday, September the 22nd, 1972  
for an evening of conversation and refreshments. Please  
come to my office at 8:00 pm on the aforementioned date.  
I look forward to seeing you there._

_Cordially,_

—_H. E. F. Slughorn_

* * *

**Longer, darker, and more action-packed than Year One, with more secrets, more confrontations, more just plain Marauder fun! Coming soon...**

**Year Two: **_**James Potter and the Shrieking Shack**_


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